


The Dragon Has Three Heads

by orphan_account



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Adultery, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Arthur Dayne Lives, Arya Stark is a Targaryen, Arya has dragons, Ashara Dayne Lives, BAMF Arya Stark, BAMF Daenerys Targaryen, BAMF Jon Snow, BAMF Ned Stark, Benjen Stark does not go to the Wall, Conspiracy, Cultural Differences, Cultural References, Cunning Ned Stark, Daenerys Targaryen Is Not a Mad Queen, Daenerys lives in Westeros, Dragon Eggs, Dragon Riders, Dragon dreams, Dragons, F/F, F/M, Gerold Hightower Lives, High Valyrian (ASoIaF), House Stark, House Targaryen, Jaime Lannister Redemption, Jon Snow Doesn't Join the Night's Watch, Jon Snow Raises Dragons, Jon Snow and Arya Stark are Siblings, Jon Snow is Azor Ahai, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon Snow's Name is Jaehaerys, King Jon Snow, Loyalist Jaime, Magic, Multi, Ned Stark Lives, Night's King - Freeform, Old Tongue (ASOIAF), Oswell Whent Lives, Others - Freeform, Political Alliances, Politics, Polygamy, Powerful North, Prophecy, Prophetic Dreams, Queen Arya Stark, Queen Daenerys, R Plus L Equals J, R plus L Equals J& A, Scheming, Sea Dragon Point, Secret Relationship, Secrets, Targaryen Incest, Targaryen Loyalist North, Targaryen Restoration, Targs are fireproof, The Long Night, Threesome - F/F/M, Tower of Joy, Viserys goes to Essos, Warg Arya Stark, Warg Jon Snow, Wargs (ASoIaF), Wights, Winterfell, direwolves, green dreams, minor Catelyn Stark Bashing, minor worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-01-15 14:40:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 23,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21254996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Rhaegar says the dragon must have three heads. It comes true, but not in a way he would have imagined. Stannis grabs a baby Daenerys from Dragonstone. Ned tries to save her from dying and somehow ends up having her betrothed to his bastard, Jon Snow.Unknowingly, Robert seals the end of his own reign, when the three remaining Targaryens grow up together, guided by magic and desire to make a name for themselves.Underneath the calmness, the North is simmering with icy rage for the injustice done to their kin and so, they prepare to seat the Targaryens where they belong.On the Iron Throne.ABANDONNED AND HAS BEEN ADOPTED!





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Promised Dragon Twins](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1403269) by [XanderLuvsAll](https://archiveofourown.org/users/XanderLuvsAll/pseuds/XanderLuvsAll). 

> https://archiveofourown.org/users/Night_Eyes/pseuds/Night_Eyes , https://archiveofourown.org/users/biggmixx/pseuds/biggmixx , https://archiveofourown.org/users/PokemonFreak/pseuds/PokemonFreak , thank you for your comments and suggestions.  
The more I thought about them, the more sense it made, giving plenty of possibilities for different sorts of conflicts and motivations. The basic idea is still the same, with your twists added. So, I dedicate this rewrite to the three of you. (The first chapter tough, is still the same.)  
Enjoy! :3

**282 AC**

Ned was impossibly tired. He’d fought a war for months- a war, that should have been about _justice_ and not about overthrowing the current regime. Now, he was riding through the scorching sands of Dorne, following a brief lead, to find his beloved sister.

Lyanna, who had most likely willingly went with the Prince. He knew her well enough, to know, she would have killed anyone,- with her bare hands if must- who would have tried raping her.

When they reached the tower, he dismounted, as did his other companions- three knights in blinding white stood between him and the door, that would lead to Lyanna. The three best of the Targaryen Kingsguard- Sers Gerold Hightower, Oswell Whent and Arthur Dayne.

He unsheathed his House’s ancestral blade, _Ice_, watching as the three knights got ready. „I looked for you at the Trident.“

„We were not there, otherwise the Usurper would lay dead, buried namelessly as he would deserve for rising against his King.“ Ser Oswell said.

„You were not there either when Ser Jaime buried his golden sword in the Mad King’s back.“

Arthur Dayne eyed him. „If we were there, Aerys would yet sit the Throne... but maybe it was for the best, that he is dead. He had been mad, so Jaime must have had a good reason, to kill him.“

Ned’s mouth almost fell open. Was Dayne... actually agreeing about Aerys being mad? If so, why hadn’t they... _’Rhaegar, of course.’_ he thought. _’They were loyal to Rhaegar and not Aerys.’_

That was the only plausible explanation he could come up with. There was a scream, cutting through the air and all of them tensed up. Ned’s own eyes slid past the Kingsguard, towards the Tower, from where the scream came- his sister’s scream.

„Lyanna.“ he choked out. The three knights tensed up and there was another scream.

Taking a shaky breath, he looked at the knights. „She’s birthing?“ the three shared a look before Gerold nodded.

„The wet nurse had arrived with Princess Elia’s handmaiden a few days ago.“ answered the White Bull.

He wanted to ask, what Princess Elia had to do with all this, but no words came out of his mouth. There was only one thing running through his mind. _’It’s too soon.’_

He swallowed hard and stuck _Ice_ into the hot sands before stepping away from the sword. The three knights tensed and he held up his hands. He could feel the tension of his men, but it didn’t matter. He looked at the one, whom he knew at least in passing.

„Ser Arthur, _please_. She’s my sister. Let me see her.“

The violet gaze of the Dornish narrowed before he lowered. „Do you promise not to harm the child?“

He nodded. „I swear it on the Old Gods and the New.“ then, he looked at each knight. „Besides, the baby might have their father’s name, but there’s Stark blood too. Lya and any child of hers is my family. I would never become a kinslayer.“

Sers Gerold and Oswell stepped forward and then the Black Bat looked at him. „Your ancestral blade will be safe here. Arthur will escort you to the Princess, but your companions will remain, where they are.“

He nodded. „Very well.“ he looked at his men. „Stay here. I will be back shortly.“

He let his hand drop and watched, as Arthur sheathed _Dawn_, motioning for him to follow. Oswell and Gerold let him pass, before standing so to stop his men from following. He didn’t speak, merely allowed the Dornishman to lead the way, up through the twisting steps.

They came face to face with a wooden door and Arthur opened it. Ned followed and the moment he set his foot in the room, he nearly retched- the cool, sweet smell of winter roses mixed with the scent of blood and death.

He briefly caught sight of a massive strongbox and a silver, dragon harp on top of it, but it was no concern right now. He had to see his sister. Arthur led him into the second room and stood to the side- and there she lay, sweating and tired, her sheets soaked with blood.

„Ned. Big brother.“ she whispered out.

Tears stung his eyes, as he fell on his knees right next to her. „Lya. Sweet sister. I’m here.“

„I want to be brave.“ she breathed.

Ned grabbed her hand and kissed her hair. „You are. You’re very brave and strong.“

„Am not.“ she breathed. She coughed a little and they raised her hand in a gesture, to come closer. The woman in the room- one, he hadn’t even noticed before- walked closer. „Ned, I want you to meet your nephew and niece. Jaehaerys and Visenya."

The blonde woman bent down and Ned’s heart melted, as the babies peered at him curiously. One had mismatched eyes- steely Stark grey and soft Targaryen lilac. The other had deep indigo eyes- full of power and knowledge- even as a newborn, the baby had the eyes of Rhaegar Targaryen.

He looked back at his sister, smiling and squeezing her hand. „They’re beautiful, Lya.“

„My little Dragonwolves. I loved him, Ned. I loved him and...“

„_Hush_, sister.“ he soothed, leaning closer. „I know you loved him, now save your strength.“

„I won’t... make it...“ she breathed.

Fear, like a cold spire of ice, hit his heart. „Don’t say it, Lya. You’re going to raise them.“

„I won’t. Promise me they won’t die, like their siblings. Protect them from Robert.“

„Lya...“

Her grip on his hand tightened. „Promise me, Ned.“ her tone was desperate, no matter how weak she was. _„Promise me.“_

„I promise.“ he nodded. „I will take care of them.“

She smiled softly, finally at peace. Then, her eyes glazed over and her body stilled. She was dead.

Arthur muttered a prayer to the Seven, but he could barely think. He just stood there, holding Lyanna’s limp hand. Then, one of the babies made a noise and he snapped out of his daze. He looked at the one with Rhaegar’s eyes and reached forward.

The girl, who held them gave him a curious look, before allowing him to take the child. „It’s the boy.“ she said in a pleasant Dornish accent.

He smiled down at the baby and kissed his forehead. „Hello, little Jaeherys.“

He held the baby close and looked at Arthur. He opened his mouth to say something, but then the ring of steel reverberated trough the air. Panic flooded his senses again and he ran downstairs, firmly clutching his nephew. Arthur skipped past him and when they were finally out, Ned felt horror.

Howland was the only one standing, unarmed, his hand still on _Ice_, as if for support. Oswell and Gerold had bloody swords and the rest of his tiny retinue lay dead in pools of blood that was being soaked up by the greedy sands.

„What happened?“ asked Arthur.

It was Howland, who spoke. „Willem said he smelt blood and he accused you of harming Lord Stark. Your sword brothers stopped them from entering, just as they said, they would.“

Ned groaned. „More needless death. As if we didn’t have enough already.“

Howland glanced at him. „I’m sorry Ned. I didn’t feel like I should join. It would have been...“

He shook his head, cutting his friend off, mid-sentence. „It doesn’t matter. They’re dead now.“

„Excuse me, Lord Stark.“ called Ser Oswell. „How fares the Princess?“

Ned’s eyes flashed. „She’s dead.“

Both knights bowed their head, along with Howland and they all muttered prayers for his sister’s soul. That is when Lord Commander Hightower looked at him again. „And the child?“ he asked.

Ned gave a strained smile. „Healthy twins. Jaehaerys and Visenya Targaryen.“ he said, allowing the two to get a better look at his nephew. Even Howland came closer.

„What will we do now, Ned? If Robert finds out...“

Ned growled lowly. „Robert won’t find out. If he wants them dead, he’ll have to get through the might of the North, first. They are my kin, Howland. Dragon and Wolf, as well.“

„Dragon? Do... you happen to say you have Targaryen blood as well?“ asked Ser Oswell with a raised eyebrow.

Ned nodded, feeling even more tired, than before. „My grandmother, Princess Vaella Targaryen, daughter of Prince Daeron and Kiera of Tyrosh. Granddaughter of King Maekar and Queen Dyanna Dayne. She took a fake name, to escape the south and married my grandfather, Edwyle. She went by the name of Marna Locke, for a while, until telling King Jaehaerys, that she lived, but didn’t wish to leave. Eventually, the King gave his blessing to the marriage, her only child was my father.“

„I didn’t know that...“ muttered Oswell.

„So you see, Ser, I will not let them get harmed, for they are my kin, no matter what.“

„But how will we protect them?“ asked Gerold. „For I made a vow and I will not break it.“

Ned huffed. He knew, that he couldn’t ask these three to walk away, while his sister’s children breathed. „I will raise them, as my bastards. Jon and Arya Snow.“

„Your lady wife will not be happy.“ Howland said.

Ned shook his head. „If I have to ruin my marriage to see them safe, I will do it. I promised Lyanna, Howland and I intend to keep it.“ his voice was cold and rigid, like the land he ruled.

„And what of us, Lord Stark?“

Ned glanced at the Kingsguard before shaking his head. „We’ll figure something out. We have to pack and move my sister’s body as well. The ride from here is a long one, longer than it would be since we have to stop in King’s Landing as well. I’m invited to Robert’s crowning and I cannot miss it.“

* * *

The ride to Starfall had been long and exhausting- he hated the heat of Dorne. But, when they finally made it Lady Ashara was the one waiting for them.

„Lord Stark.“ she greeted with a tiny smile, even if her eyes flashed in wariness.

He dismounted and kissed her hand. „My Lady, an honour. Could we have a word?“

She gave him a speculative look- her eyes flickering to the three cloacked Kingsguard- before nodding. She waved them to follow.

Inside, it was slightly cooler, for which he was greatful. Ashara opened a door and walked in. Inside sat the Lord of Startfall, Aden Dayne. Much like Arthur, the eldest of the siblings, had blonde hair as well.

„Welcome, Lord Stark.“ he greeted. Ned bowed his head.

„Lord Dayne.“

„What brings you to Starfall?“

He sighed. „I believe there are things you should know and... I would have a favour to ask, as well.“

As those words left his mouth, the three Kingsguard let their hoods fall, revealing their faces. Ashara’s face brigtened, as she saw her brother and immediately moved to hug him.

„Arthur. Sers Gerold, Oswell.“ greeted the Dayne lord. „What is the meaning of this? Why haven’t you been...?“ he trailed off.

Arthur let go of his sister and stepped next to Ned. Ned flet a shiver run down his spine, as the Sword of the Morning looked at him for a moment. „We were where Rhaegr wanted us to be. You know, he never kidnapped Lyanna Stark.“

Aden Dayne hummed. „It would have been very much unlike our beloved Prince, indeed. But what happened, then?“

„It was arragned, wasnat it?“ Ashara asked with a raised eyebrow.

Arthur nodded. „Did Elia mention it to you, perhaps?“

Ashara smiled sadly. „She had.“

„Mentioned what exactly?“

Arthur sighed. „Simple, brother. Rhaegar took two wives, like the Conqueror, to ensure the Realm’s stability. The Queen and Elia both agreed and Lyanna went willingly. The Seven Kingdoms bled for Robert Baratheon’s stupidity and Aerys’ rash actions of burning the Starks. Not for Lyanna’s kidnapping, for it was never such a thing.“

Aden’s eyes went wide. „But... why would he?“

„Aegon was not Rhaegar’s son, but a Blackfyre bastard.“ said Gerold.

The Daynes’ eyes flashed in confusion, before Ashara perked up, no doubt understanding what was going on. „Elia was _ill_. She told me how the birth of Rhaenys had weakened her. I would not put it past Rhaegar to create a farce and have a second child, to stop Aerys for harming or shaming Elia. But since he had no heir...“

„He took Lyanna Stark with him, whom both him and Elia had met at Harrenhall.“ Gerold finished for her. „They married in front of the Old Gods, with us and Elia as witness’.“

„Queen Rhaella said, that if Lyanna birthed a son, Aegon would be legitimised, as a cousin and raised with the other children.“ Oswell said quietly.

„Elia agreed, since she liked Lyanna.“ Arthur continoued. „They made a deal, that Lya’s son would marry Rhaenys, so neither of her brothers could say, she was put aside or shamed. Lyanna and Rhaegar both agreed. It was Elia herself, who suggested the Tower of Joy, to hide Lyanna.“

There was quiet for a moment.

„What of your sister?“ asked Ashara quietly. „And the children?“

Ned’s hearth clenched at the mention of Lyanna. „She’s dead, but she birthed healthy twins. Jaehaerys and Visenya.“

„And how do you plan on protecting them, Lord Stark?“ asked Lord Dayne. „Your drunken friend and Tywin Lannister killed Elia and her children. The twins will meet the same fate, if they find out your sister chose the Prince over Baratheon.“ his voice was cold and deadly.

„They’re my kin, Lord Dayne.“ he said fiercely. „They _will not_ die, for I won’t allow it. They are trueborn Targaryens, but they will be raised as my bastards. A harsh life, but they will live and not meet the same fate, as their siblings.“

„You’d do that?“ asked Ashara, obviously surprised. „Sully your honour?“

He nodded. „They will live My Lady and that is what matters.“

Ashara sighed and looked at the three Kingsguard. „You’re going?“ the three knights nodded wordlessly.

„What of the mother, tough?“

Ned looked back at Lord Dayne before shrugging. „A camp follower, for all the Kingdoms will know.“

Ashara snorted quietly. „Your honour’s known troguh the Kingdoms. No one will believe it.“

He raised an eyebrow at her. „What do you suggest then, My Lady?“

Ashara looked at him, eyes flashing. „They’re mine. Tell the Realm the twins are born from us.“

Ned’s grey eyes went wide. „I can’t ask that of you...“

„You are not asking me, My Lord.“ she said, before her eyes softened. „Elia agreed to it. She told me, that she already liked your sister, despite the short meeting. She called her a sister, as you had. Any child, that Elia claimed her own trough blood or wov, are precious to me as well. They are Rhaegar’s heirs and most of all, they are _innocent_, just as Elia’s children had been. I won’t let innocents die. Let me.“

Ned looked at her, before a sigh left his lips. „Fine. The twins are Snows, born from us.“

Ashara’s lips curved into a small, relived smile. „What shall be their names? I would imagine, they cannot keep the names Rhaegar and your sister had given them.“

Ned hummed. „They cannot. They will be Jon and Arya Snow. I will take them with me, as I promised my sister, to keep them safe.“ he said strongly, before anyone else could ask, what the twins’ fate shall be.

„Arthur.“ called Aden Dayne, forcing their attention back to him. The Sword of the Morning raised an eyebrow.

„Yes, brother?“

„No child of Starfall shall leave for the North, without a trained swordman behind their back. You shall escort _Ashara’s_ children to Winterfell, with Lord Stark.“

Arthur’s eyes glimmered with steel. „As you say, brother.“

Ned sighed, feeling tired. „Off to King’s Landing, then.“

* * *

Ned’s blood ran cold, as Stannis Baratheon walked into the room, with a tiny bundle in hand- they were done with the ceremony yesterday. When Stannis said, that the child was Queen Rhaella’s last- Daenerys Stormborn- Robert had gone into a fit of rage and demanded the baby to die.

_’I won’t let her die too!’_ he thought. The knowledge, that Robert had allowed the brutal murders of Elia and her children to go so easily, still left him feeling disgusted and disappointed in Robert. He saw their foster father’s eyes flash too- Jon Arryn was no happier with the children’s deaths, as he was. (But why wasn’t he saying anything, then?)

„Your Grace.“ he called quietly. Robert tough, even trough his rage, seemed to hear him. He was drinking, a cup of wine in hand. (How many had he drunk since morning? He had yet to see Robert’s hand empty of the cup.)

„What’s it, Ned?“

„Don’t kill a baby like that. It would be a bad way to start your reign. Let me take her north and raise her there. I could marry her to my bastard son, to ensure she would never go after the Throne.“

There was silence, and he could feel Stannis giving him a sharp look. For a long minute, Robert’s blue eyes bore into him, before his foster brother laughed out loud.

„Ruin the sisterfuckers’ _precious_ line with good, old northern blood.“ he chortled. „I like it, Ned. Fine, take the whelp. But that would also mean, I would have to legitimise your bastard.“

Ned’s made a face. „_Bastards_.“ he grit out. „Twins.“

Robert waved. „Both then. Should it be... let’s say, Greystark? I think that was the name your bastards took a while back, right? Marry her to your boy and give them some backwater keep and she will never bother us again.“

Ned blinked. _’Greystark? Well, it’s a bastard name, like the Blackfyre and it sounds a bit better than Snow. If he’d get a tiny lordship over a keep, it would...’_

He nodded to Robert. „Jon and Arya Greystark, then.“

Robert waved at Stannis. „See? Dealt with. Ned will take the little whelp.“

Stannis nodded stiffly and walked over to him without a word, offering the small bundle. Ned took it and as the tiny newborn’s lilac eyes looked up at him innocently, he knew, he’d made the right choice.

* * *

Hours later, he sought out Oswell, Gerold- or more like _Osric_ and _Geris_, now- and Arthur in the small inn. When he appeared with the fidgeting Princess Daenerys, they looked at him shooked and confused.

Ned sighed. „He wanted her dead, just like Rhaenys and Aegon.“ he said quietly. „I will raise her and she is to marry Jon Snow, when of age. Well, more like Jon and Arya Greystark, now.“

„Greystark?“

Ned shrugged. „Robert legitimised both of them, but not with my name, so they don’t have a claim over Winterfell. So he went with the name, that rebelling Stark bastards had chosen, decades ago. Greystark.“ he shrugged again. „I was surprised he even remembered the name.“

He saw it in their eyes. They had been serious and mourning all the way from Dorne to the capitol. But right now, all three of them were on the verge of rolling on the floor, with laughter.

Actually, once it had sunk in, what Robert had just done, he felt like laughing hysterically, too. Because Robert had just legitimised Jon and Arya as Targaryens too.

He smiled down at tiny Daenerys. _’I’ll keep you safe. I promised Lya I will keep her children safe, but you might as well have been hers. You’re only a little younger. I will keep all three of you safe, I swear it on the Old Gods and the New.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ashara and Arthur have an elder brother, but he does not have a name in the books, so I gave him one.


	2. Jaime I & Eddard I

**Jaime I**

Jaime’s green eyes went wide, as he stared at _King_ Robert Baratheon. „Would you please repeat that, Your Grace?“

Robert’s blue eyes flashed with irritation. „Are you deaf, Lannister? I said, you are dismissed from your post and reinstalled, as the Heir of Casterly Rock.“

„How come?“

„I would rather not have _kingslayers_ in my Kingsguard.“ the Baratheon stressed. Jaime twitched. The nerve of the bastard! „Besides,“ he continoued smoothly, as if he hadn’t just spit an insult to his face, „I made a deal with your father.“

„A deal?“ he asked, dread pooling in his stomach. What sort of deal could it be?

„I will marry your sister and you are _honourably dismissed_ from your post and renamed as Heir. In exchange, you will marry someone for the Crown, to ensure the Realm’s stability.“

_’What the...?!’_ he needed all his willpower not to snap at Robert right then and there. He took a deep breath and looked at Robert, before his gaze flickered to Jon Arryn, the new Hand.

„Who is she?“ he asked as neutrally, as he could manage. He felt dread in his bones, but it was bearable, compared to what he would have felt, if his father had been the one, to say that.

„Lady Ashara of House Dayne.“ stated Jon Arryn.

Jaime almost fell face-first. _’Ashara? Ashara of all people?! She’s going to kill me and...’_

„The match will ensure Dorne’s complinace with the Crown.“ Arryn said.

Jaime needed all his self control not to laugh. „Dorne is ruled by _House Martell_, not Dayne.“ he pointed out.

Arryn nodded. „Indded. But the Martells are closely kint to the Daynes and a marrige of Martell to you could be seen as a reward to those, who fought against us, by our allies. House Lannister is the wealthiest family, after all.“

_’The Martells fought for the family they had here.’_ he thought, but didn’t say anything. _’Only for my father to kill them.’_

„Lady Ashara will be informed soon. You are dismissed and can ride for the Rock. Your father insisted for the match to happen there.“ Robert said, making a shooing motion with his hand.

Jaime wanted to ask, if they wanted him dead. Any Dornish would want him dead, rather than marry him willingly and give him heirs. He shook the white cape off his shoulder and let it fall to the floor, wordlessly. He bowed to Robert before leaving as briskly as possible, without actually running.

_’Ashara.’_ he thought with a frown. _’A woman, whose heart belongs to Eddard Stark. More reason for Sark to hate me. Hooray.’_

Not to mention, that Robert had just legitimised Stark’s bastards (the ones, Jaime guessed had been born of Ashara, of all people).

What a wonderful marriage he had in front of him...

* * *

**Eddard I**

Just as Howland had warned him, Catelyn truly despised the children, at first glance. Even without asking a question, she thought to know the situation. She didn’t ask the mother’s name, after all.

It didn’t help, that Arthur was very much recognisable, unlike his brothers in arms, (well hidden by poor clothes and fake names). Arthur, who refused to let little Jaehaerys out of his grip, useless Wylla had to feed them. (Not that he let Visenya be held by anyone else. He only gave her to Wylla, when she needed to be taken care of.) Oswell held baby Daenerys and much like Arthur, he barely took his eyes off the Princess- the loudest of the three babies.

The ride through his own lands was the hardest. The ship landed at White Harbour, but the ride from there was agonisingly long, more so since they couldn’t ride as fast, as he would have liked. When they finally did arrive, Catelyn immediately spotted the bundle he held. The scene- and mostly the look on her face,- would forever be etched into his memory.

_He sighed when the four of them rode through the main gate- Howland had taken a different route from White Harbour, after swearing not to reveal, who the Greystark babies actually were._

_He didn’t really know his wife, but he saw the gentle relief sparkling in her blue eyes. Then, he halted his destrier and she noticed the bundle, her eyes narrowing. He didn’t speak. Wylla hurriedly dismounted her own horse and hurried over to take _Arya_ from him. Once he was down, he took the baby from her and nodded to Arthur. Wylla turned and did the same for the knight. Arthur took a moment to take Daenerys from _Osric_, before stepping next to him._

_„What is the meaning of this, My Lord?“ Catelyn asked._

_He sighed and nodded to Osric. „The baby with him is Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. She is to be raised, as my ward.“_

_„And the other two?“ her tone turned frosty, befitting the North._

_„My natural twins.“ he refused to say _bastard_. He’d live with the Dornish words. „Jon and Arya Greystark.“_

_„Greystark?“ she echoed. „Should it not be _Snow_?“ the contempt in her tone was palpable. _

_He glared a little. „The King had seen them legitimised, as Greystark.“ he saw the shook in her eyes, ready to protest before he continued. „As per His Grace’s orders, Jon is to marry Daenerys, when she is of age and they will get lands here, as bannermen of House Stark. You have nothing to worry about. They have no claim over Winterfell, with the Greystark name.“_

_Even before she could speak, he waved Arthur and Wylla inside._

That was the end of it. With Arthur often lingering near the twins, she didn’t even spare them a glance. He’d given Arthur’s brothers-in-arms work in his household guard. Of course, the fact, that they had bastard names too- as Osric Rivers and Geris Flowers- seemed to fuel Catelyn’s dark mood even more.

* * *

Now, in the silence of the crypt, standing in front of the statue of his sister, his heart ached.

„What now, Ned?“ asked Benjen, looking broken, as his blue eyes lingered on Lyanna’s stone likeness.

Ned sighed and shook his head. „I don’t know.“

There was a heartbeat of silence. „They’re her children, aren’t they?“

He hummed and nodded. „Jaehaerys and Visenya.“ he whispered quietly. He glanced at Benjen, who didn’t seem all that surprised.

Ben caught his gaze, before looking back at Lyanna’s statue. „I was there. On the Isle of Faces.“ he whispered. „They married in front of the Old Gods. I saw as the Septon wrote the papers. They signed it. The Kingsguard and myself, as witnesses. But it doesn’t matter much. Between myself and Arthur, not many...“

„Would believe?“ he finished. Then he shook his head. „Osric and Geris are here too. They’re Oswell Whent and Gerold Hightower, in fact. They refused to leave. Not that I’m not grateful. They’ll be safer, like this.“

Ben’s eyes widened in shock before he huffed. „Good. Means, I can go to the Wall.“ he finished quietly.

Ned’s eyes narrowed. „Why would you go there?“

Ben swallowed. „It’s my fault. I should have stopped her, from leaving...“

Ned shook his head. „Lyanna always made her own decisions. Some form of defiance was to be expected. She despised the idea of marrying Robert. But, of course, neither father or I had listened, when she lamented about the bastard...“

„Ned I...“

He glared at Benjen, before looking away. „Don’t act like a craven, Ben. You are _not_ like that. Help me make the North strong. Help me protect them...“

Benjen looked at him for a long moment, before he nodded. „Alright. What’s your plan?

He shrugged. „I think, I will give Jon Sea Dragon Point. We’ll need a fleet and it could be used as a base, along with Bear Island.“

Benjen blinked at him. „You want a fleet?“

Ned nodded. „I... don’t trust Robert, Ben. You hadn’t seen, how he used the dead bodies, as stepstones. You hadn’t seen the look on his face when Stannis presented Daenerys... I won’t let the same happen to the twins.“ he swallowed hard. „We need a fleet for trade and warfare. The less we depend on the south, the better I will feel. Especially since Tywin Lannister whispers into Robert’s ear.“

„Isn’t Jon Arryn his Hand?“

Ned snorted. „And Jon hadn’t so much as made a noise, about the deaths of Princess Elia and her children.“

Benjen sighed. „So a fleet. What of me?“

Ned hummed. „Wait with joining the Watch. We’ll see, how things go. If needed, you’ll have to marry... but if things go better, I might as well let you go. But don’t _run_. You’re young, life’s long.“

Ben hummed. „Alright. I’ll help you with your plans.“

Ned smiled, patting his brother’s shoulder in relief. „Thank you, Benjen.“


	3. Jaime II & Benjen I

**Jaime II**

There was no joy in his heart when the ship docked at Lannisport. After making his vows he knew, that the place will never be his. It was fine with him, really. Tyrion always had a better head on his shoulders, he would have made a good Lord, if only their father looked past his appearance. But that was near impossible, he supposed- his father hated Tyrion too much, after all.

_’But now I’m back and I will marry.’_

All his life, he’d loved Cersei- no other woman existed in his world, other than his sister. After he took the white and she remained here, the distance put a wedge between them, he supposed- as tiny as it was, it was _there_.

Now, he was no longer a Kingsguard, but the distance was there all the same if only with their positions switched. She was in King’s Landing and he was at Casterly Rock. And in a few moons, they would both be married for alliances.

She would be Queen Cersei Baratheon of House Lannister, wife of King Robert, the First of His Name.

He would be Lord Jaime Lannister, Heir Apparent of Casterly Rock, husband of Lady Ashara Lannister of House Dayne.

It all felt like a dream.

Lost in thought, he could barely focus, as the party rode to the castle- the smallfolk all whispering and looking at him strangely. He absently wondered, what they thought about a kingslayer being their future Lord. (Though, knowing his father, he would probably forbid any mention of that, just to _preserve_ the good name of House Lannister.)

He wondered what name it was- his father was responsible for the extinction of Houses Reyne and Tarbeck, while ordering the death of a mother and her children just recently. And he- well he was an oathbreaker, a kingslayer, for all Westeros knew. They would never know his reasons and so, the whispers would never truly die.

He halted his horse, once they arrived in the courtyard. His father, Tyrion, his uncle Kevan and a bit farther away, his beloved aunt Genna.

Tyrion looked simply happy to see him, while the smile on his father’s face... well, hee was glad to get his heir back. He wasn’t happy about Jaime being home, as his son, but rather, happy, that he would not have to leave Casterly Rock to Tyrion when the time came.

Jaime loved his brother, regardless of how he looked, or what happened, when he was born. Cersei and his father had no love for him, but Jaime still remembered, how their mother asked them, to make sure Tyrion grew up well. He promised her, minutes before she faded away, that he would keep an eye on Tyrion.

First, it had just been the promise. Then, as the years passed, he realised, that the deformed body hid a brilliant mind and a child, who enjoyed life and was fascinated by it. But as he grew- as people whispered behind his back- the cynism took root and he turned into what he was today. After he was appointed Kingsgard, he supposed there was no one for Tyrion and the cynism ran deeper now than ever. (Not to mention his brother’s horrid habits of drinking and whoring.)

It always made him feel, that he’d failed the promise he’d made to their mother.

But he was home. He’d help Tyrion, where he could and would make sure, that his brother knew, that he was not like their father or Cersei.

All the greetings were done, though all the words had escaped him, even Tyrion’s. He’d been too lost in his thoughts, after all.

„The wedding shall be held in two moons.“ his father announced without too much hassle. „The Daynes will arrive a few days before the ceremony.“

He could only nod mutely.

As he wandered into the corridos quietly, headed for his old chambers, he couldn’t help, but think how miserable his life would be. Lady Ashara was beautiful, that much he remembered from the Turney of Harrenhall, but what was that beauty, when she probably hated him and her heart belonged to another?

* * *

**Benjen I**

He sat in the nursery, holding little Jaehaerys. The baby’s dark indigo eyes looked at him so intensely, that Benjen nearly shivered under the stare.

„Something’s wrong?“ asked Arthur from his spot by the fireplace, trailing his eyes over the room, stopping on little Visenya for a second, before looking him in the eyes.

Benjen frowned a bit, cursing his own folly. _’I’ll have to think of them as Jon and Arya. They are Jon and Arya Greystark. For now.’_

He looked at the knight and shook his head. „No, it’s just... Jon’s eyes...“

Arthur chuckled, a fond expression crossing his features. „Just like _his_.“ he said quietly. „I would imagine he will be a charismatic, loved leader. It’s in his blood, after all.“

Benjen chuckled. „And Arya might as well be a wolf-blooded one.“

Silence settled around them. Looking at the Sword of the Morning, Benjen could tell it wasn’t only duty, that brought him north. Arthur Dayne truly loved his Prince, as a friend- enough to forsake seeing his family for the foreseeable future. He imagined it was a bit different for Oswell and Gerold, whom the world thought dead.

His gaze flickered over to Arya. The two of them were only a few months old but already grown fond of each other. They were only willing to sleep in the same crib, while baby Daenerys also wanted to be close to them. Not necessarily in the same bed, but close. He wondered, how could children so young, tell the presence of their kin.

„Just like she was.“ agreed Dayne quietly. „And she has her eye too. The other is like Queen Rhaella’s.“

Ben hummed. „Don’t you think someone might see, that it’s similar?“

Arthur shrugged. „People see, what they _want_ to see, Stark. They want to see the twins, as your brother’s natural children, born of Ashara. So that is what they will see. My presence will only support that thought in their minds. It will keep them safe, so I don’t mind.“

Ben watched the swordsman for a long moment. „What would your sister think?“

„Ashara was fond of Eddard, even I could see that. She was friends with Princess Elia and Elia very much agreed to the second marriage. We told my siblings and Ashara approved. She suggested it, even before your brother finished his sentence."

„She _really_ supported that second marriage that much? I mean... Princess Elia?“ he asked, surprised and just a tiny bit suspicious.

Arthur hummed. „Indeed. Elia’s only child was Rhaenys. Aegon was a Blackfyre, as a second birth could have killed Elia, due to her fragile health. Lord Varys helped Rhaegar and Rhaella to find a child, who could be passed, as Aegon. Rhaegar had no Heir and Elia understood the need for a second marriage. Rhaegar explained it to her, that she would still be Queen and Rhaenys would have most likely married Jaehaerys. Elia said, that if the second woman they found was willing, she’d share the position of Queen even if Rhaegar’s heir married Rhaenys. It would have also been a way to have the North’s support. The Tourney of Harrenhall was a farce. Rhaegar wanted to use it, to plan to overthrow Aerys. Even the rest of the family understood, how mad he was and it would have been a question of time, before he turned against the Realm, in his madness. A second marriage would have been securing the other kingdoms to his cause. It was a lucky thing, that he also fell in love with Lyanna. They loved each other and what better way to gain the North’s support, then taking the Lord Paramount’s daughter as a wife? Queen Rhaella would have been ready to treat with your father, as she knew, that Lyanna was already betrothed to Baratheon. From what I heard, Elia even spoke to her briefly and found out how unhappy Lyanna was with marrying Robert.“

Benjen’s eyes widened. „It would have saved Lya from Robert _and_ it would have given the Crown the alliance they wanted.“ he choked out. „And... what of the Blackfyre boy?“

„Valyrians and Rhoyar all take care of their own. The boy might have been a black dragon, but he was still one. Queen Rhaella said that things would be cleared over it, once Rhaegar ascended the Throne and Aegon would have been legitimised, as a distant cousin. They hoped to raise the children together, so maybe Aegon would have been Jaehaerys’ Hand or something. But... we’ll never know.“

Ben shook his head. „No, we’ll never know. They’re all dead and only these three hatchlings remained from House Targaryen.“

„Indeed. Their safety is paramount.“

Benjen smiled and hugged the baby closer. The baby, who was one last piece of his beloved sister. „And they will be safe.“ he whispered. „Rhoynar and Valyrians aren’t the only ones, who take care of their family. Wolves have fangs too, Ser. Just like dragons and vipers.“

Arthur’s violet eyes glinted sharply, as he smiled. „Glad to hear, Stark. I can’t wait to see those fangs direwolves are said to have.“

Benjen smiled and put the baby back in the crib. „You might see it sooner, than you think or more often than you would be comfortable with.“ he whispered.

He walked to the door. „And what does that mean?“ asked the Kingsguard.

Ben hummed and looked back at the Dornishman. „Have you ever heard, what Ned is called?“

Arthur seemed thoughtful for a moment. „The _’Quiet Wolf’_, you mean?“

Benjen nodded. „Aye, Quiet Wolf. Lyanna always said he was a wolf, who showed his fangs but never bit anyone. Well, it’s not exactly true. You know, the quiet members of the pack are usually the most dangerous, because you cannot anticipate their moves.“

„And Baratheon made a mistake.“ Arthur hummed. „Even if the people do not immediately believe the story of Rhaegar’s second marriage, Jon’s betrothal to Daenerys...“

Ben smiled. „Indeed. Our grandmother was a Targaryen, Ser. So was Robert’s. There were reasons for the war, yes. Aerys was mad. But when Robert killed Rhaegar, that was when he became a kinslayer and a kingslayer, because I would assume, _Rhaegar_ was the peoples’ king and not Aerys.“

Arthur nodded. „Indeed. The people didn’t love Aerys, but his madness, so to say, did no direct harm to the smallfolk. Therefore, they were willing to wait quietly, because the Queen and Rhaegar, went behind Aerys’ back, for the betterment of the Realm, where they could. And they loved Elia too.“

„Robert, willingly or not, made an enemy out of the smallfolk. If he does prove to be a good king, the people might be willing to accept him...“

„But if he fails,“ Arthur whispered, „they will side with the Targaryens when we raise the banner.“

Ben nodded. „Very likely. But... for now, don’t even mention anything of that sort. First, let them grow up and have a childhood. I won’t force them on that ugly iron chair. _But_ if they want justice for the side of the family they never knew, I’ll gladly help.“

He left the nursery with a lighter heart, knowing, that Arthur would keep an eye on the children. He had some discussing to do with Ned, after all.


	4. Eddard II & Ashara I

**Eddard II**

He sat behind his desk, running through the finances of his lands and thinking of how to improve everything. How to strengthen the North, for when they would need it._ ’I’ll have to be careful and subtle about it. I can’t seem to raise an army to harm Robert. He’ll have to think, that I just want a better life for my people.’_

Which wasn’t even a lie. He _did_ want a better life for his people.

_When the white winds blow and winter comes, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives._

Those were the true words of his kin. The direwolf was the sigil of House Stark, but deep down all northerners were fierce and protective, like wolves. Deep down _all_ northerners were like wolves, like the Starks. The entire North was a big pack, taking care of each other.

There was a knock on his door and he looked up. „Come in!“ The door opened and Benjen stepped in. His blue eyes were shining fiercely. He wondered what might have happened. „Benjen? Is everything alright?“

His brother closed the door and walked to sit on the chair opposite his desk. „I spoke with Ser Arthur.“ he said quietly.

Ned hummed. „What of it?“

„It was planned. A conspiracy.“ Benjen said. „Princess Elia’s health was fragile. She agreed to a second marriage on the condition of Rhaenys marrying Lya’s boy. Even his own family wanted Aerys gone. Elia knew how unhappy Lya was with her betrothal to Robert. She told it to Rhaegar and the Queen, apparently. Queen Rhaella was ready to present an offer and have Lya and Rhaegar married.“

Ned’s eyes widened. „Gods be good! Arthur mentioned…“ he groaned, rubbing his face. He took a deep breath to calm his thoughts. „Is that all, you wanted to tell me?“

„You remember, how I told you I want to go to The Wall?“ Ben asked quietly.

Ned nodded grimly. He wasn’t happy, but if Benjen felt comfortable with it, then alright. „Do you still want to join?“

Ben shook his head. „No. I’ll rather help you.“ his eyes glinted fiercely. „Tell me where I can help and I’ll do it.“

Ned smiled. „Well, maybe you can start thinking of who you’d want to marry and I’ll eventually need you to go to Essos and secure us trade with some of the Free Cities. We have money to raise a fleet, but it would leave our coffers empty. We need some income, for all that I have planned.“

Benjen raised an eyebrow. „What exactly have you planned, _other_ than the fleet and the Moat?“

„A powerful, safe home. I want us to survive to be independent of the Iron Throne if must.“

He saw, as his brother’s eyes went wide. _„Independent from the Iron Throne?“_ he hissed.

Ned gave a tiny nod. „If we must. I don’t trust Robert the way I used to. The war had changed him and I’m not sure what kind of man will ride to Winterfell if he must come. I want us to be safe. And I absolutely _don’t_ trust the Lannisters.“

Benjen smiled and nodded. „I trust you, brother. So... off to Essos?“

„Yes, I’d appreciate, if you went. But first, find yourself a wife, so when you come back, you can wed. The time while you will be away, will be enough to prepare for it.“

„Not many are around my age, so I was thinking of Dacey Mormont.“

Ned nodded. „The Mormonts are loyal anyway, but you’re right about the age. Besides, it has been several generations, since a Mormont married a Stark. I think this will be alright. I’ll speak with Maege myself.“

Ned felt a tiny warmth in his heart. They were one step closer to a strong and safe home.

As Benjen left to pack, he glanced down at his papers again. _’Now, what to do about our vassals...?’_

* * *

**Ashara I**

Casterly Rock felt foreign and the West was almost cold, compared to the searing heat of Dorne. Jaime Lannister was handsome, yes, but even she could tell, what this marriage was- a way for the Usurper to keep Dorne in line. A way for him not only to shame House Dayne but the entirety of Dorne. Wedding her to the man, who killed their King.

Jaime Lannister, she supposed, was quite fittingly called _Kingslayer_ for his deed.

Well, she held no love or sympathy for Aerys. She’d heard enough whispers in the Red Keep, enough from Elia, to know that Aerys was truly mad. Probably deserved to die- but sweet Elia, her children, loving compassionate Rhaella and Rhaegar _did not_.

Yet, they were all dead and Rhaegar’s last children were up in the cold of Winterfell. It had only been a few moons since Eddard Stark had left Dorne, but the news traveled fast. _Honorable Lord Eddard Stark returned to his home with twin bastards, Arthur Dayne at his back._

Let the fools mutter about her all they wanted. She’d bear it for Rhaegar’s children and for Ned. She loved him, really, but everything had fallen apart so fast…

After the rebellion was over, she knew, that she had very little chance to be with him, yet when she heard, that he’d married Catelyn Tully- Brandon’s former betrothed- her heart broke to a million pieces. The gods thought she would get no time to mourn the love, who was forever out of her reach, for a few weeks later came the letter from Robert Baratheon.

Useless Dorne wanted war, she was to marry Jaime Lannister, a former knight of the Kingsguard, now Heir of Casterly Rock.

They’d discussed it for hours with her brother and Princes Doran and Oberyn. They would have gladly denied it and armed Dorne for their safety. Baratheon had no hold over Dorne, as they were not under the jurisdiction of the Iron Throne.

But something told her to accept it and sail to the Rock. So, after a long debate, they agreed, that she would marry Jaime Lannister, so to throw off Baratheon’s suspicions. They would have their revenge, Ashara was sure. After all, the last dragons were all in Winterfell. (Save for Prince Viserys, who’d been secreted away from Dragonstone, before Stannis Baratheon arrived.)

“Are you well, My Lady?”

She turned her gaze to her right, where her soon-to-be husband sat. Jaime wasn’t only handsome, but completely courteous as well. Tough, she’d seen something in his emerald green gaze, that she could not name.

“I was merely lost in thoughts.” she answered, taking a bite of her meal.

“And what were you thinking of, if I may ask?”

_’About Elia and Rhaegar. About the dragons hidden with Ned. About why you broke your vow and killed your king, fact aside he may have been a bit mad.’_ she thought.

However, she voiced none of those things. If she did, it would just create a scene and she didn’t want that. Maybe one day, she could pry it off him, why he did, what he did. (Arthur had spoken so highly of him, while he was a squire. What happened to that promising boy Arthur had seen in Jaime?)

“My family.” she said, careful to keep her voice neutral.

Something flashed in his eyes- was it hurt?- before he turned away. “I see.”

No more words were exchanged between them for the rest of the feast. But… as she recalled the look on his face, as she bore the heavy silence around them, something nagged at her. There was something about Jaime Lannister, a sort of dark mystery, that drew her in.

This might be a political match, but maybe, she could use this chance to figure him out and maybe even something good could come out of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In later chapters, I will be doing some worldbuilding, mostly around the cultures of the North and Valyria, since we know so little of those. But of course, the plot will still be the focus.


	5. House Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little appendix, similar to the one in the books.  
Only for House Stark, so the changes can be seen.  
All ages are to be seen, as from the start of the series. (Ex. Dany is around 14 in 298 when Ned is asked to be the Hand.)

**House Stark**

The Starks trace their descent from Brandon the Builder and the ancient Kings of Winter. For thousands of years they ruled from Winterfell as Kings in the North, until Torrhen Stark, the King Who Knelt, chose to swear fealty to Aegon the Dragon rather than give battle. Their blazon is a grey direwolf on an ice-white field. The Stark words are _Winter Is Coming_.

EDDARD STARK, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North,

—his wife, LADY CATELYN, of House Tully,

—their children:

—ROBB, the heir to Winterfell, fourteen years of age,

—SANSA, the eldest daughter, eleven,

—LYNARA, the younger daughter, a girl of nine,

—BRANDON, called Bran, seven,

—RICKON, a boy of three,

—his bastard twins, JON and ARYA GREYSTARK, fourteen, (secretly the last trueborn children of Rhaegar Targaryen) / Jon is soon-to-be Lord of Sea Dragon Point

—his wards, THEON GREYJOY, heir to the Iron Islands and DAENERYS TARGARYEN, last child of Aerys and Rhaella Targaryen, betrothed to Jon Greystark

—his siblings:

—{BRANDON}, his elder brother, murdered by the command of Aerys II Targaryen,

—{LYANNA}, his younger sister, died in the mountains of Dorne,

—BENJEN, his younger brother, a bannerman and Lord of Moat Cailin,

—his wife, LADY DACEY, of House Mormont,

—their children:

— RICKARD, heir to Moat Cailin, thirteen

— LYRA, their only daughter, eight

—CREGAN, a boy of six

—his household:

—MAESTER LUWIN, counsellor, healer, and tutor,

—VAYON POOLE, steward of Winterfell,

—JEYNE, his daughter, Sansa’s closest friend,

—JORY CASSEL, captain of the guard,

—HALLIS MOLLEN, DESMOND, JACKS, PORTHER, QUENT, ALYN, TOMARD, VARLY, HEWARD, CAYN, WYL, guardsmen,

—GERIS FLOWERS and OSRIC RIVERS (Sers Gerold Hightower and Oswell Whent, in fact), secret Kingsguard, working in the Stark household guard

— SER ARTHUR DAYNE, Sword of the Morning, sworn sword of Jon and Arya

—SER RODRIK CASSEL, master-at-arms, Jory’s uncle,

—BETH, his young daughter,

—SEPTA MORDANE, tutor to Lord Eddard’s daughters,

—HULLEN, master of horse,

—his son, HARWIN, a guardsman,

—JOSETH, a stableman and horse trainer,

—FARLEN, kennelmaster,

—OLD NAN, storyteller, once a wet nurse,

—HODOR, her great-grandson, a simpleminded stableboy,

—GAGE, the cook,

—MIKKEN, smith and armorer,

—his principal lords and bannermen,

—SER HELMAN TALLHART,

—RICKARD KARSTARK, Lord of Karhold,

—ROOSE BOLTON, Lord of the Dreadfort,

—JON UMBER, called the Greatjon,

—GALBART AND ROBETT GLOVER,

—WYMAN MANDERLY, Lord of White Harbor,

—MAEGE MORMONT, the Lady of Bear Island,

— BENJEN STARK, Lord of Moat Cailin

The principal houses sworn to Winterfell are Karstark, Umber, Flint, Mormont, Hornwood, Cerwyn, Reed, Manderly, Glover, Tallhart, Bolton, Stark of Moat Cailin.


	6. Benjen II & Jon(Jaehaerys) I

**Benjen II**

**293 AC**

If the southrons thought that the Starks and their fellow Northmen didn’t know how to play the Game, they would be up for a big surprise in a few years, he thought. The changes that Ned had done, will serve them well in the long run, even if Jon and Arya chose not to sit the Iron Throne.

But Daenerys was a fiery little girl and Benjen had no illusions- she might as well convince the two, to choose the crown.

They had several trade agreements with the Free Cities and the income was enormous. The Karstarks and the Mountain Clans had all started mining and so far, it was worth it.

Moat Cailin had been finished four years ago and Benjen had gladly moved into the massive fortress with his loving wife, Dacey. Dacey, who’d given him two wonderful children, Rickard and Lyra.

For the reconstruction of Sea Dragon Point, he called architects from Essos, to mix the northern style with the more exotic Essosi/Valyrian ways. After all, the fortress will, in a few years, belong to three Targaryens.

Due to the trade and the income, they had enough resources to start improving the main roads, specifically the Kingsroad. For now, they chose to improve the part connecting Winterfell and Moat Cailin, tough Ned had said he’d do the same to the rest of the Kingsroad going northwards as well, later.

Currently, there were talks going with the Iron Bank of Braavos, for some extra support, so they would be able to improve the tiny fleet they had. (Ned was adamant, that he would no longer let the Ironborn close to their shores. The Greyjoy Rebellion had done enough damage, as it was.) Plus, he’d heard Ned muttering about creating a spy network as well- he’d nearly doubled over when Ned had mentioned it,- so they would know what was going on in the south, without having to go themselves.

The laughter from below brought him from his thoughts. Looking down at the group of children, he smiled.

Ned had offered to foster his bannermen’s children in Winterfell, as a way to improve everyone's ties to each other. And it seemed to be working wonderfully. Robb was smitten with Alys Karstark- and Ned was thinking of offering a betrothal. Jon, Arya, and Daenerys- _the Terrible Three_, as everyone called them- had made great friends with Domeric Bolton.

He couldn’t help laughing, whenever he saw Lya’s twins with Daenerys. They were kind and helpful to anyone, but they would never pass up occasional mischief. What he found hilarious, was that Daenerys would claim to have done said mischief, whenever Catelyn caught them. She would punish the young Targaryen, but never as harshly, as she would have Jon or Arya. And while Catelyn would mutter, that it was surely done by the ’evil little bastards’, she would never have evidence.

Thinking of his good-sister always brought conflicted feelings. She was a good woman and without question, a good mother to her children. But even after all these years, she was way _too southron_ for the North. She tried making the children follow the Seven, but that wasn’t the biggest problem. She was trying to make Sansa into a _lady_, the southron kind- the kind, who were essentially useless when they had to protect their homes.

That was, what Catelyn had not yet understood, even after so long. That the women of the North were warriors, as much, as their husbands. Warriors, who kept peace and defended their homes, when the men left for war.

He loved Catelyn, really, but sometimes he had the urge to slap her and shout at her to _wake up_, because she was no longer living in Riverrun, surrounded by chivalrous knights. (He wondered if true chivalry existed at all, down south, where the grasping nobles played their bloody games to gain more wealth and power.) _’What kind of dream world had Hoster Tully raised his daughters in?’_

Wait, _no_, chivalry existed- Arthur Dayne and his two hidden companions were the proof of it. Yet, those three also accepted the darker, bloody side of the world and unlike Catelyn, they knew to look for schemes, behind the many moves.

Arthur Dayne was another frequent topic of his thoughts. The Dornish never mentioned Lyanna or his sister to the twins, even when they asked him about their mother, as they suspected (and were correct), that Arthur might know, who she was. But he always dropped small things about her. Things, that would, in the end, spur the twins to study and train harder.

He still remembered the day, when Arya demanded to be trained, like her brother. The day, when Arthur, for the first time in years, _laughed_, before agreeing to train her, as long as Ned himself said yes. Naturally, Ned _had_ said yes. (And Benjen swore, that his brother’s usually solemn eyes were smiling the next week, as he watched the twins' fumble trough their training.)

Daenerys was a fiery girl too, but she preferred the bow to the sword. Though most of the time, she read in the library or chose to sing. (And whenever Dany sang, Jon would join, playing the harp. Those times, he worried people might make connections, but so far, all the older people said, that Jon played the harp as skillfully, as Lyarra Stark.) Whenever Benjen heard that he had to hold back a snort. His mother was skillful, but Rhaegar Targaryen was _better_.

Arya had no skill with the harp and didn’t sing either, but she loved listening to Jon and Dany. Out of the three, she was the best on a horse. Dacey had joked, that Arya was surely born atop a horse. Not that Jon was lagging behind too much...

„Ben?“

He perked up hearing his name and turned to see his brother. „Hello, brother.“

„Is something wrong?“ Ned asked as he stepped next to him.

„No. Why would you think?“

„You were strangely silent.“

Ben smiled, his eyes turning to the twins again. „They just remind me of her.“

„Arthur says the same of _him_.“ Ned whispered.

Benjen hummed. „The perfect mix of the both of them.“ he agreed quietly. „They’ll be great, one day.“

„Aye. If only Catelyn would understand, that they won’t harm our children, but would rather be _helping_ them. The way she’s treating them, whenever I turn my gaze elsewhere, will one day...“

„Only for _her_.“ Ben said firmly. „They’re smart enough to understand their status. And they know well, that it’s only Catelyn’s own doing. Not yours, mine or Dacey’s.“

„Indeed.“ his brother nodded. „But how long it will be before Catelyn makes a scene? They are being taught how to _rule_, just like Robb and she’s not happy.“

„Jon and Daenerys will have their own keep.“ he said. „And where those two go, Arya follows. Jon would sooner point a sword at you, then let Arya be taken away from them.“

Ned chuckled. „And Daenerys would most likely try using me for target practice, for taking her best friend away.“

Benjen laughed. „If I didn’t know better, I’d say you brought home triplets.“

„I might as well have.“ Ned said. His grey eyes flickered downwards, where the Terrible Three were sneaking out into the Godswood. From a respectable distance, Arthur was following, as inconspicuously, as possible. „Do you believe in magic, Ben?“

Benjen blinked at the strange question. „I’m not sure... Why are you asking?“

„The three of them are inseparable.“ Ned whispered. „One would think they know the truth.“

„Why... would you say it was magic?“

Ned shrugged. „Both families were known to possess several forms of it. Maybe... there’s something in the blood?“

Benjen shrugged. „Maybe. Or _maybe_, they just formed a bond, because they all feel like outsiders, with how Theon and Catelyn are acting.“

Ned sighed and nodded. „Most likely.“

* * *

**Jon (Jaehaerys) I**

_He was in an empty yard. The castle was foreign- it had dark stone, that most of the northern Keeps were made of, but he’d never seen one with three towers, like this one. Plus, the towers had massive stone dragons on them. The dragons’ wings were only half-open and it seemed as if each dragon was climbing one of the towers. Atop each tower, was a banner, flapping in the cold wind._

_He could make it out, just barely- it was separated diagonally. One part was grey, with a white direwolf on it, while the other was black, with a red, three-headed dragon. The dragon was the sigil of Dany’s House, the Targaryens, that much he knew. The wolf was like the Stark banner, but with switched colours- white wolf on a grey field._

_He wondered who would combine the two Houses’ banners in such a manner._

_He looked around and found an open door. Slowly, he walked towards it and walked into the Keep. He didn’t know what was leading him, but he felt like he was being pulled in a certain direction. Shrugging, he followed._

_Soon, he arrived in front of massive double doors, painted vivid red. The door was ajar, with soft light falling on the stone pavement. He carefully pushed the door open and found himself in a lavishly furnished study. The light was falling on the desk, nudging him closer._

_He walked up to the desk and his eyes went wide._

_On red silk cushions were three crowns, made of beautiful dark steel. Two orate ones for women and a simpler one for a King. The King’s crown had hexagonal blue and red gems around the band, while the women’s crowns next to it, had tear-drop like gems. One with red gems and the other with blue._

_And right behind the cushions sat three tiny dragons, just like dogs. One black-blue, one grey-bronze and one red-silver. _

**_„Iksi hen mēre ānogar, Jaehaerys.“_** (We are of one blood, Jaehaerys.)_ the black dragon seemed to say, as it leaned over the King’s crown, closer to him._

Jon bolted upright in bed, drenched in sweat, breath coming in short gasps. He looked around. He was in his own room, the surroundings painted grey ad pink in the dawn’s soft light. He peeled off the heavy furs and stumbled over to the washbasin. The water in it had a thin layer of ice. He broke it and splashed some water into his face, hoping to forget the dream.

But it didn’t work.

The dragon’s voice- halfway between a hiss and a growl- remained stubbornly with him, for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Keep in the dream is how I imagine Sea Dragon Point. So he was kind of inside his future home.


	7. Jaime III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still the same year, as the previous chapter, only a few months later.

He hated it when they had to ride North. The freaking kingdom was just like Dorne- the climate was unbearable. But where the dornish sun threatened to boil his blood, the cold winds of the North froze it in his veins. And the cold was worse, than the sun.

He was only caught up in it because he and Ashara had been at court when Robert had announced it and they couldn’t decline. Glancing to the side, he watched Ashara ride gracefully, the heavy furs wrapped around her, to ward off the cold. Cersei was traveling in her wheelhouse, but Ashara had refused and chose to ride instead.

He had a good idea, why that was. Cersei hated Ashara with every fiber of her being and in turn, Ashara hated Cersei.

Over the years that he spent far away from Cersei, he’d come to realise how much he’d been manipulated by her. Ashara had shown him what true love was and he cherished her for it, with all his heart. Ashara and Tyrion had shown him Cersei’s ways- and sometimes, he wondered, if his wife and brother had some plot hatched, that concerned him. But, as soon as those thoughts would appear, he’d dismiss them- neither of them were like Cersei or Tywin in that regard.

Ah, _that_ was yet another thing- Tyrion had let him in on something he had not known. Well, rather Tyrion had slipped in his drunken stupor (he’d never thought Tyrion could be drunk enough for the liquor to loosen his tongue). Cersei had known about the murderers of Elia and her children and she was _happy_ about it. What sort of woman, what sort of _mother_ was she, glad to see children dead?

After finding that out, he could never look at his twin the same way.

But Ashara distracted him enough to forget Cersei even existed. His father was often traveling for business and sometimes, he’d go to King’s Landing, so he would leave the Rock for a moon or two. Those days, Jaime would take over and get a taste of what it would be like, to rule the Westerlands. He liked it- but he would have liked it even more if he could make _changes_. But there was no chance anything he did, would be undone by his father, when he came back. He’d have to wait, so wait he will. If anything, being a Kingsguard taught him to stand by and watch, instead of doing things. There will be a time when he would be the Lord of the Rock and then, no one would tell him what to do. (Well, aside from the King… but that was a question of detail at this point.)

He shook his head and focused ahead, green gaze roaming the wast, cold lands in interest.

Jaime had to give it to Stark- the Lord Paramount did his duty to his people well. As it seemed, the North was _safe_, if the massive fortress of Moat Cailin was anything to go by. The four towers of the Moat flew Benjen Stark’s personal banner. A standing grey direwolf with a black tower behind it on a white field. Someone muttered, that the way the wolf stood, was exactly how the Mormonts depicted the bear on their own banner.

_’Speak about honoring both Houses.’_ he thought absently.

Benjen and his wife were alright, really, but he hated the freaking _cold_.

But he had to admit, seeing a woman armed like a man, had been a surprise- a pleasant, intriguing surprise. Dacey Stark had made it clear, that her House, the Mormonts, were the last Shield Maiden House of the North. A House, who taught both men and women how to fight. A House who was not necessarily always led by men, for the Mormonts, were like the dornish in that regard- the eldest child, regardless of gender, would be the next Head.

(Ashara had smiled at the fond mention of Dornish, coming from the Lady Stark.)

Cersei scoffed at the idea of warrior women, but Jaime felt something stir within him. Some long-forgotten voice, in the back of his mind, told him, that he’d seen northern women fight before. But he could not, for dear life, recall where and when.

The rest of their travel from Moat Cailin to Winterfell was smooth and much faster than anticipated. The roads were in much better condition then they thought, after all. Ashara had praised Ned Stark for the improvements and for a moment, his heart clenched in _jealousy_. (They were riding for Winterfell, where Ned Stark was raising the bastards born of Ashara.)

When they arrived, Stark and his family were already waiting. Jaime himself sought something- _someone_ in the crowd. But Arthur was not there and sadly, neither was Queen Rhaella’s last child. He would meet Arthur, he was sure- the man’s sister was his wife. But he had a feeling Arthur would never let him close to Princess Daenerys.

It had been a surprise, when he heard, that Stark had taken the girl in, considering that Aerys had killed his father and brother. _’And that Rhaegar kidnapped and raped his sister.’_ he thought, watching from atop his white steed, as Robert and Stark spoke.

But something didn’t sit well with Jaime. No one knew Rhaegar as well, as the Kingsguard. He might have only served House Targaryen for two years, but he knew Rhaegar well enough, to have doubts. Rhaegar was a good-hearted man, who snuck out in poor clothes, to sing for the people of King’s Landing. (He only knew that, because once Queen Rhaella had requested Arthur for some reason and instead of the Dorinsh, Jaime himself accompanied Rhaegar, from a respectable distance, to make sure the Prince would be safe.) He was a man, who put the well-being of his people first-going behind Aerys’ back, risking a madman’s ire, for the sake of the commonfolk-, but was also a dreamer. Someone who enjoyed music more, than the sword, no matter how good he was at it.

Someone, who would never kidnap someone else’s betrothed. He would have never _raped_ a woman. (Aerys raped Rhaella and Jaime knew, that the Prince _hated it_, as much as he had, yet neither of them could do much about it.)

_’There’s just something wrong with that story.’_ he thought. There were small things throughout the years, that Ashara had dropped as well, whispered quietly in the privacy of their shared chambers. He just _knew_, that the story the Seven Kingdoms knew of that kidnapping, was _off somehow_…

It was something, that kept nagging at him, ever since he saw the bodies of Princess Elia and her children in the Throne Room. Ever since Ashara had whispered those small words. Robert, even today, lamented the loss of Lyanna Stark, but what if...

The creaking of Cersei’s wheelhouse brought him from his thoughts. He glanced backward, away from Robert, to see her getting out. She was beautiful in her red and gold dress, the soft white furs wrapped around her, to ward off the cold.

Then came the children, Joffrey and Myrcella. They were perfectly Lannister, just like Cersei. Golden hair and green eyes. Sometimes, for brief moments, he would wonder how had neither of the two inherited anything from Robert…

Robert asked Stark to go and see the crypt. At that moment, the most memorable expressions crossed several faces. Stark’s became carefully blank. Cersei’s lips pursed together and for a moment, her anger dulled her beauty. And Arthur’s- just there, in the back, hidden from direct view of anyone, who wasn’t seeking _him_\- became furious.

Jaime, from the corner of his eye, watched his childhood idol- the man, who’d knighted him. Arthur was a calm, composed man, but at that moment, as Robert asked to go into the crypts, all that calmness disappeared. If looks alone could kill, Jaime was sure Robert Baratheon would have crumpled to the floor in a pile of ash, the moment after he said the word ’crypt’.

He dismounted, along with the rest of the retinue, but his eyes lingered for a moment. Arthur disappeared back into the Keep, silent and unnoticed, the look of fury never leaving his face. Glancing at his wife, he saw the same silent anger on Ashara’s face as well, for a second, before it was gone as if it had never been there.

_’I wonder what was it about...’_ he mused, as he let the stable boy take his horse away. It had to be something more, than the marriage, it was not _his_ fault- even Arthur would understand that.

* * *

Since the feast was over and Ashara had retired early, as she was in the early stage of another pregnancy-according to the Maester-, he had some time to himself. He walked out of the Keep, towards the Godswood. He hated the cold, but right now, it would help clear his head. He heard Robert and Stark’s loud exchange regarding Queen Rhaella’s daughter. She wasn’t even considered a _woman_ at this age and Robert was already pressing her marriage to Jon Greystark.

_’The gods know Robert’s hate for the Targaryens knows no end. I’m surprised he had even allowed the girl to live. But then again, Stark and Stannis had both been against killing her...’_

It seemed, at least Stannis Baratheon had some sense and unlike Robert, he would not have become a kinslayer- much less to a child. (The knowledge, that his father had Elia and her children killed still sent shivers down his spine. Aegon was a baby, still on his mother’s tits.)

He shook his head, chasing away the dark thoughts. The less he thought about it, the better.

Laughter brought him from his thoughts and he stopped. It seemed, he had made it to the Godswood, but someone else was already here. Focusing ahead he was greeted by the unlikeliest sight.

Arthur stood next to the massive Wirewood, a small smile on his face, while three children seemed to be playing something under his watchful gaze. Two girls and one boy.

The first whom he noticed was Daenerys Targaryen- her silver hair was like fire. Her lilac eyes glinted happily and her quiet laughter reminded Jaime of the kind, loving Queen Rhaella. Daenerys was her mother come again, not a drop of Aerys in her, he could see that much, just by a glance.

Her companions were also remarkable.

The boy had curling silver hair with two dark brown stands framing his high-cheekboned face. His eyes were dark indigo and he could see, that in a few years, he would grow to be a tall youth.

The second girl was also interesting. Her right eye was Stark grey, while the left was lilac- the same shade, as Daenerys’. Her hair was dark, like Eddard’s, but it had soft waves and there was a tiny streak of silver on the right side.

All three of them had an air of unearthly beauty and mystery about them. 

He needed a second, to recall, what the south had been whispering about, ever since the Rebellion. Honorable Eddard Stark returning to Winterfell- to his wife- with bastard twins, fathered on Ashara Dayne. Arthur Dayne, Sword of the Morning, former Kingsguard of the Mad King, abandoning everything he knew and loved to ride north, to accompany his beloved sister’s bastards.

_But there was not a drop of Ashara in these twins._ He knew, after all, his own twins-Vorian and Joanna -had features from both him and Ashara.

The boy- Jon Greystark, if he recalled correctly- shifted from his previous position and lunged himself at his twin. „You’re going to pay for that, little sister!“ his voice, thick with the northern accent, was like silk.

The three, sitting side by side, laughing and playing under the watchful gaze of Arthur Dayne, the knight’s hand resting on _Dawn’s_ hilt...

His eyes went wide and he stumbled back. It was just like when Princess Rhaenys and Prince Viserys played together in the royal gardens- granted, they had been younger. The boy’s voice and his looks... his twin’s mismatched gaze.

_Rhaegar. Lyanna. Rhaella._

It was as if the twins were the mesh of those three at once. Blinking, for a moment, his own mind played games with him, he supposed.

For a moment, instead of Daenerys, he saw Queen Rhaella- strong and fierce, before Aerys’ madness broke her. For a moment, instead of the dark-haired girl, he saw Lyanna Stark, wild and beautiful, as she slapped Robert at the Turney of Harrenhall, before storming away. Her twin, for a moment, had Rhaegar’s face- same voice, same eyes... calm, but with a fire beneath...

He stumbled back. _’Impossible. You’re just imagining things.’_ he told himself.

His need for fresh air forgotten, he whirled on his heels. He needed all his willpower not to run inside, away from the ghosts of his past.

* * *

When he finally made it back to his and Ashara’s shared, temporary chambers in the Keep, his heart was in his throat, back against the closed door, as if to bar anyone from entering. However, the loud closing of the door had woken his wife.

“Is everything alright, Jaime?” she asked, her violet eyes bleary with sleep.

He shook his head and willed the memory away. “I saw ghosts, ’s all,” he muttered.

Ashara shifted and sat up. “Ghosts? Don’t be childish, Jaime.” she chastised good-naturedly.

Jaime shook his head and stumbled over to the bed they shared. “Not _literal_ ghosts… but… Princess Daenerys looks so much like Queen Rhaella…” his voice died away, as he watched the scene in the Godswood again as if he was still there.

Ashara’s eyes flashed in sympathy and she gently brought her arms around him. “It’s alright,” she whispered.

“It’s _not alright_.” Jaime shot back, sooner than he could rein his words. And then, everything he’d held back all these years, came pouring out. Seeing the Princess had been too much, especially with those strange twins. “I failed, Ashara. I failed… if I had been faster, maybe you would still have your friend and _children_ would not have died. If I had been faster, maybe I could have _stopped_ Clagane. _It’s my fault._ I promised Rhaegar to protect his family and I fail…” his words were cut off, as Ashara put a hand on his mouth.

“Be quieter, Jai.” she said, voice sharp. “Such words could get us into trouble.”

Jaime took a few deep breaths and calmed himself. He didn’t move Ashara’s hand away, merely leaned into her body, feeling truly miserable for the first time in years. “I _failed_, Ash. The Realm will be torn apart by Robert’s mountain of debt, Joffrey is a cruel child, might as well be Aerys come again and the King, who could have set everything straight had fallen at the Trident more than a decade ago. Even his sister is condemned to suffer…”

“And what would you do if there was a way to restore the Targaryen Dynasty?” she demanded quietly. “You’d be a traitor to your own blood.”

“To the _Seven Hells_ with my father and Cersei.” he hissed, green eyes burning. “They are grasping megalomaniacs, who can’t wait for Robert to topple over from too much wine.” he shook his head. “Once upon a time, I cared for them. But the more time I spent with you, Tyrion and Aunt Genna, I realised how cruel and grasping they are. They don’t love me- or anyone, really- in the way you or Tyrion do. People, for them, are just the next step on the ladder, to get more power. If I didn’t know any better, I would say my father’s hobby was to wipe out entire Houses! The Reynes, the Tarbacks and most recently, the Targaryens. Who’s next? The Martells or the Daynes?” he scowled, glaring out the window at nothing. “That can’t go on. Have… have you never thought about serving justice to Elia? You’ve grown up with her…” his mouth shut abruptly then, glaring harder at the window.

They were his family, Ashara was right about that. But at the same time, both of them were complete strangers. People, who could be a danger. Well, once his father was gone and he was the Lord of the Rock, Cersei, and Robert both _could_ pose a danger- that is if Robert didn’t drown himself in wine before he was made Lord.

Or, if not Cersei, then Joffrey in a few years, surely. The way the boy was now… was disturbing at least. If Cersei didn’t stop coddling him _right now_, he will grow to be just like Aerys had been.

Jaime wasn’t sure the Realm would survive another mad monarch, who thought to play god, by burning people whenever he liked. (Alright, maybe Joffrey would not be exactly like Aerys, but the possibility was _there_ and that alone, was disturbing.)

“Do you really mean that?” Ashara asked quietly. Jaime perked up and looked at her with interest. She’d never heard that steel in her voice before. Her eyes were burning too- he just couldn't name, what set them alight.

He remembered what his Aunt Genna had told him before he married Ashara in the sept of Casterly Rock.

_’Dorne has many well-known Houses, noble and wealthy. They are different, just like their sigils and words. However, the Realm always forgets, that the Dornish are of one blood and regardless of their name, deep down, they all live by words as old, as the River Rhoyne. “Unbent. Unbowed. Unbroken.” All the Dornish are like that. Your sister had spoken of the Northmen, like a pack of wolves. That they are. And just like the Dornish, they value family and justice above all. Hell hath no wrath like those of Dorne and the North if those they hold dear are harmed. Even words, that go to the wind, they will remember-especially if those words are insults.’_

He nodded. “I mean it. I wish there was a way for me to right all the wrongs I’ve done.”

Ashara inched closer and her mesmerizing violet eyes locked with his. She was beautiful. Even after all these years, he could not get enough of her beauty and sharp mind. She would be an excellent Lady Lannister, once the Rock was his.

“What if I told you there was a way?” she asked, voice still a low whisper.

He raised an eyebrow. “I’d take it without hesitation. Robert is as unworthy of the crown, as Aerys had been.” then he shook his head. “But there’s no way. Rhaegar’s children are dead, his brother is rumored to be as mad, as Aerys and Daenerys is a hostage in all but name.”

“There _is_ a way.” she whispered, smiling. “Robert had sealed the end of his own reign. It’s up to you. Will we help House Targaryen when the time comes?”

Jaime nodded. “Yes. I would if I could.”

Her smile widened. “Even against your own father and sister?”

“Especially against them.” he said, voice lower than before, but ringing with steely finality. “But there’s no chance.”

She grinned, eyes brightening. _“There is.”_ she insisted. “The Greystark twins are Rhaegar’s trueborn by Lyanna. Elia agreed to a second match. And now, Robert wants Princess Daenerys to marry her own nephew.”

Jaime forgot how to breathe.

His mind flashed back to the Godswood yet again and he recalled how his mind had played tricks on him, showing him three dead people, instead of the children. Arthur was there, _Dawn_ drawn… He looked at Ashara with wide eyes.

“Kingsguard…” he whispered.

Ashara grinned and nodded. “Aye. He is. Oswell and Gerold are alive too, hiding here, under fake names.”

He blinked, thoughtful for a moment. Then, slowly hysteria bubbled up in his chest. “Robert wants Rhaegar’s _son_ to marry his youngest _sibling_. He would officiate the marriage of Rhaegar’s sister and his son _willingly_.”

Her grin seemed to sharpen even more. “Indeed. Robert named them Greystarks, but in fact, he acknowledged them, as Targaryens. But, Ned said there were papers signed by Rhaegar, Elia, Lyanna and Queen Rhaella as well. The twins are trueborn.”

“And Stark raising them?” he asked, a bit skeptical.

Ashara rolled her eyes. “You’re bitter about him naming you _’Kingslayer’_, eh? Maybe one day, you should have the talk with him, we had years ago.”

Jaime snorted. “Stark wants my head anyway and would want it for eternity. You two…”

“I loved him, yes.” Ashara said, cutting him off. “A part of me is still sad, we are not together. But it was not meant to be. As unlikely, as it had been at the time of our marriage, I found _happiness_ with you. I’m sad tough, that Ned cannot have the same happiness I have, even without us together.”

Jaime raised an eyebrow. “What you’ve been excepting? The poor bastard is married to an annoying Fish.”

Ashara glared. “Jai don’t talk like that!”

“What? Calling her annoying Fish?”

She rolled her eyes. “No. Don’t call Ned _that_. Tully _is_ an annoying fish tough, I give you that. I’m glad at least Benjen found real happiness with his wife.”

Jaime shrugged. “She seemed to be the tough kind. Fits him strangely well.”

After that, there was a long silence between them. Jaime’s eyes kept roaming the room, trying to familiarise himself with it. They would, after all, have this room as theirs for the coming weeks.

“So… will you help?” Ash asked him again, snuggling close.

Jaime smiled and kissed the crown of her head. “Anything, for the Dragons. Even if I have to endure Stark’s looks, I will help. I will even testify they are yours and his, if I must, if that keeps them away from Robert and my father. I owe that to the Queen and Rhaegar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Depending on my mood and inspiration, I might write an interlude, where Jaime and Ashara have THAT conversation, about Aerys.


	8. Arya (Visenya) I & Brathogan I

**Arya (Visenya) I**

She muttered a few curses- which, she was sure, her father and Ser Arthur would have scowled at- as she tore the door of her chamber open. She had overslept.

Never before had she overslept in her life! How could it have happened now? She was supposed to be having training with Ser Arthur. The knight has promised to show her how to use a short sword and today was the day. Meanwhile, Jon and Dany would be training in the bow and throwing daggers, with Ser Arthur’s friends, Osric Rivers, and Geris Flowers.

She scrambled through the corridors, as fast as possible, the cold of the morning hitting her in the face, like a horse tampering her. In her hurry to get outside and meet with the knight, she collided with someone.

„Uh.“ she groaned, staggering backward. Shaking her head she looked up. It was Lady Ashara of all people (was she her and Jon’s mother?). She opened her mouth to apologise, but the Lady’s words stopped her.

„Why the hurry, so early in the morning?“

„I overslept, My Lady.“ she muttered. She would not dare to call her mother, even if she was. But she didn’t even know for sure. Neither her father nor Arthur had said anything serious about her- even after all this time, she knew not the name of the woman, who birthed her and Jon. „I’ve sword practice...“

„...with Arthur.“ she said with a kind smile. „Correct?“

Arya nodded. „Aye.“

„Did you eat, little wolf?“ she asked.

Arya perked up at the endearing nickname. Maybe, just maybe, Lady Ashara was her mother? And she didn’t hate her? „No.“ she said.

An irate look passed the noblewoman’s face before she placed her hand on her shoulder. Arya tensed. „Come then. I’m sure the kitchen maids have a meal for you.“

„But.. my training!“ she protested. „Ser Arthur doesn’t...“

„...like when someone’s late.“ she finished with an eye-roll. „He’s my brother, you know. I know him well enough. Now, off to the kitchen with you and once you’re done, we meet my brother. He won’t say a word if he sees you with me.“

Arya shut her mouth and nodded, turning around heading for the kitchen, with Lady Ashara’s hand still on her shoulder. (_Mother_. The word was foreign, even to think of. Was it possible, that Lady Ashara was truly their mother and now, that she was here, she’s helping her?)

Would she take her and Jon to Dorne, if she asked nicely? She had been curious of the southernmost kingdom, ever since Ser Arthur had first mentioned Sunspear, the Water Gardens, and Starfall. But she didn’t ask- she didn’t dare.

She walked towards the kitchens quietly, with the Dornishwoman behind her, but stopped in the entrance. Lady Ashara bid her to stay, gave her a small smile and disappeared in the kitchen. (She was so beautiful. Arya herself had never been like that. Could she be like Lady Ashara, when she was older? Would she be as beautiful?)

A few minutes later, the Lady came back and offered her some fruit. „They’ll save you some porridge, for when you’re done with training.“

Arya’s heart filled with warmth- if Lady Catelyn had been around, the annoying fish would make sure she had nothing until the midday meal. Of course, she (or Jon) would only get a midday meal, if they were on time. Otherwise, they could go on with their day hungry, useless their father was there and ordered the servants to bring food.

„Thank you.“ she said, taking a bite of her breakfast. The older waved her hand, signaling her to start walking. Arya gave her one last grateful glance, before skipping towards the Godswood, where Ser Arthur was waiting.

After a few minutes they arrived and much to her surprise, her twin was there (didn’t Jon have archery with Geris?). Jon seemed surprised too, but not about seeing her. No, rather, surprised at seeing the woman, whom everyone whispered was their mother.

„Arya where...“ Ser Arthur started until he noticed his sister. Then, a small smile appeared on his face. „Ashara.“

Arya walked up to Jon, eating the last bites of her breakfast, positioning herself so to see both Dornish. „Long time no see, brother. The little wolf here had obviously overslept and was about to skip her meal, so I stole her a little.“

Arthur seemed grateful. „Good. _Lady Stark_ would have surely let her go hungry.“

The dark tone of the usually jovial man surprised her. Glancing to the side, she saw anger flash through the face of the lady. „I hope not to see her then.“ she smiled at them, ruffling Jon’s hair, before gathering her skirts. „Don’t push them too hard, brother.“

With those words, she whirled around and strode back to the keep. She shared a look with Jon, who gave a tiny nod.

_Yep_. Ashara Dayne-_Lannister_? she’d heard that the Dornishwoman had married the Kingslayer, Jaime Lannister- was definitely their mother.

* * *

**Brathogan I**

Brathogan „Bran“ Snow, lived a relatively contently for the past six and ten years. Fact aside, that his mother’s father hated him and that his mother- Lady Barbrey Dustin (born Ryswell)- had become gradually bitter over the years. These days it was so bad, that he barely dared to approach her.

He had her light brown hair, true. But everything else, according to the smallfolk, was from his father, Brandon. Tall, muscular build, long face and grey eyes. The traits of House Stark.

When he was younger, she loved him, took care of him, despite having married Lord Dustin. But, as years passed, she visited less and less and today, her father could barely stand him. (He’d never call the strict Lord Ryswell his grandfather. The man had no love for him, after all.)

So of course, when Yoren appeared by the gates of Barrow Hall, he’d asked his family to allow him to go to the Wall. His mother frowned and for the first time in years, he saw the emotion in her eyes- fear. Fear of losing him. But, Lord Ryswell was all too happy to have him out of sight.

Once he left the Lord’s solar, he heard his mother’s desperate pleading to let him stay. But Lord Ryswell would have none of it. He had heard the man say, that ’the bastard’ had been enough trouble and it had been a miracle, that she could marry after he was born. (Lord Ryswell didn’t seem to care, that her husband died before she could have a child from him.) He- _the bastard_\- was her only child, with wolf’s blood in his veins.

_’But does that matter?’_ he wondered, shuffling towards his small room. _’Brandon Stark is dead and his brothers probably don’t even know about me. Besides... a bastard cannot inherit, so I would have nothing, even if they knew about me.’_

No. The Night’s Watch would be a good destination. There, even a bastard could rise high.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I usually don't add too many OCs to the story, but this one already has a few Stark OCs, naturally- since Benjen never married in the original universe and I did replace Ned's Arya with an OC... I thought another one can't hurt too much. Plus, I needed a character, who will be at the Wall and "tells" us about the White Walker problem and whatnot.


	9. Arthur I & Eddard III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I did say I would incorporate some minor worldbuilding, so in this chapter, you'll find the traces of it.  
For the Old Tongue, I chose Slovak, since that's the second language I speak, other than English. There are just a few sentences in the chapter, not much and naturally, with a translation right behind each sentence or paragraph.  
This is a sort of filler chapter, to show the small worldbuilding and to show the Targs relationship with each other and with Catelyn.

**Arthur I**

**late 293 AC**

When he first saw the three Targaryens in a tangled pile of limbs, when they were four, it was clear as day, that they had been playing and they would grow up to be close to each other, without knowing, how significant relationship it will be.

Now, watching them in a tangled pile, so similar to their childhood, made him a bit uncomfortable. A part of him was happy, that they found love, another was wary because he never knew when they might start kissing and he really didn’t want to poke into their private business.

When Oswell had first mentioned, that he’d seen the siblings _close_ to each other, Arthur didn’t want to believe it. Now though, those three were always together and when alone, they would sit close or hold hands, just to have physical contact.

Neither of them were fools. The _Terrible Three_ were in love and apparently, the girls had no problem in ’sharing’ Jon. It seemed, fate was repeating itself- one Targaryen man charmed two beautiful ladies. And if Arthur had to make a bet, he’d bet on said ladies being in love with each other as well.

_’Rhaegar, Lyanna, and Elia all over again.’_ he thought. _’I just hope their story won’t end as tragically.’_

He didn’t know, if the Stark brothers were aware of this secret relationship or not. If no, Arthur had no intention of revealing it to Ned. The gods knew the Lord of Winterfell might try to separate them and it would not end well. If Ned knew, he had not said anything yet and Arthur didn’t feel like bringing it up.

„Jon stop it.“ Arya said, as her twin pinned her on the ground, noses touching. „Dany, how about you help?“ the Targaryen-Stark Princess asked.

Daenerys hummed. „Help I shall.“ then, she used the momentum to tackle Jon into the snow, falling on both of them, earning two grunts of disapproval.

Arya’s glare could have frozen a normal person on the spot, but Daenerys was long used to such looks. „That’s not what I thought of, _sister_.“ she hissed.

Daenerys grinned, while Jon gave a breathless laugh.

Arthur’s smile brightened a bit. They were not siblings, yet the girls considered each other as such. Life handed them rough cards and Catelyn’s negligence left its mark, but the three stood strong so far, side by side, like real wolves.

_’And when they wake the dragons slumbering within, Catelyn Stark will woe the day she first glared at them.’_

The Last Dragons deserved better, than worn clothes, cold baths or going hungry, whenever Ned or himself were too busy to monitor the trout’s every single move. But so long they draw breath (and the secret remained hidden), Catelyn would not change.

But, he could always speak with Ned about it...

* * *

**Eddard III**

Being the Warden of the North, was no easy task. Vast lands, many men... and in recent years, the minings and increased trade. The North was flourishing, hoarding wealth and power, step by step. Tough, it also meant more work.

Benjen had to keep Moat Cailin and its garrisons in check- he too, much like Ned, was a busy man. Catelyn helped of course, but she mostly dealt with everyday life and ran the castle. So, the papers and numbers were still there, waiting for him.

Until he decided to slowly include the twins and Daenerys with the pretense of them having to learn it fast, since Jon would be Lord much sooner, than Robb. For the first few moons, he only included the _Terrible Three_, but then slowly also called Robb to join, from time to time.

Which, luckily, had the desired effect and Catelyn stopped trying to accuse him of handing Winterfell over to Jon because ’he loved Ashara more’. At the mention of Ashara, he’d snapped (he still loved her in a way, yet they were both married and had duties to fulfill) and told her never to speak the Dornishwoman’s name again in his (or the twins’) presence.

Still, Catelyn was insistent, that he should involve Robb more. He still remembered their most recent exchange, just an hour prior. It still made his head hurt.

_Catelyn glared, her posture rigid. „Why would you include the bastard in closed meetings, when Roob, your HEIR is not allowed?“_

_He glared back. „I didn’t exactly tell him NOT to come, Catelyn. He just stopped coming, because he understood, that he lacks the knowledge.“_

_„Lacks the knowledge?“ she demanded angrily. „Surely, because you teach the bastards and the dragon spawn instead.“_

_Ned stiffened, glaring. „You will not call Daenerys that again, or our marriage is at an end and I will make sure you shall never see any of the children again.“ he answered frostily._

_Her eyes widened, face paling and she took a step back. Ned took a deep breath, determined to control his anger- he didn’t know if it was the cold anger of the King’s of Winter, that his mother had spoken of, or the fiery Targaryen anger his grandmother had mentioned, more than once. Not that it mattered- he just had to keep it in check._

** _ „_ ** ** _Á_****_no, chýba mu poznanie, po tom všetkom, drahá ženo, tie, zakázal ho to naučiť.“_ ** _ (Yes, he lacks the knowledge, after all, dear wife, you forbade him to learn it.)_

_Catelyn blinked at him, her anger momentary overtaken by confusion. „W-what?“_

_Ned sighed. „We still use the Old Tongue, Catelyn. Less frequently, since the Conqueror came, but all Lords of the North- and their Heirs- know it. You forbade Maester Luwin and Old Nan to teach them.“ he crossed his arms. „Arya and Jon know it, just as they should. Recently, there had been a few old notes, that needed translations and I admit, the twins are better than I am. I tried including Robb, but he knows less of the Old Tongue than I do.“_

_„I didn’t know...“ she said, wide-eyed._

_Ned scowled. „You didn’t indeed. From this day forth, you will not question my decisions regarding the twins or Daenerys. And Robb and the children will be restarting their lessons, understood?“_

_She nodded mutely and he stormed out, intent on finishing his work._

Shaking his head, he chased away the memory, picking up his quill again. Next to him, Jon was diligently helping. Either scribing out letters in High Valyrian- he himself was terrible at the language- or checking the papers he’d already done, to make sure there were no mistakes.

They worked quickly and efficiently together. That is until there was a knock on the door. Both of them stopped and Ned sighed. „Come in!“

The door opened and Catelyn came in. She immediately glared at Jon, who glared back for a moment, before setting his quill down.

„Father, I would be leaving, if you don’t mind. Dany and Arya are getting ready for _koleda_ and I wouldn’t wish to be late.“

Ned smiled a little. His children didn’t keep too many of the northern traditions, but Arya and Jon did, thanks to Benjen and Dacey’s fussing about them. He knew, that it might later pose problems for his children, but for now, he’d let it be.

Eventually, Catelyn will notice and when she asked, he’d answer truthfully. (Luckily, Lynara and last time, even Bran had joined the twins. House Stark wouldn’t give up the traditions, but if things continued this way, Bran or Lynara had a bigger chance of inheriting, than Robb, regardless of the fact, that he was firstborn.)

He nodded. „Very well. I presume Daenerys and your sister will be joining as well?“

Jon nodded, placing his quill down. „They have probably changed even and are waiting for me.“

„And Lynara?“

Jon smiled a bit before he shrugged. „She sneaked out last year. Sara brought her to me on the way back here.“

Ned sighed. „I’m not even surprised. Take her, this time, so she won’t be sneaking around. I trust the three of you to keep her out of trouble. Sometimes, she’s worse than your twin.“

He laughed, standing up. „She’s worse than Arya most of the time and you know it.“ he stopped by the door, looking back. „Would you wish something from the festival?“

Ned shook his head fondly. Jon always thought about him, especially when he couldn’t turn up for one of the festivals. „No, thank you. Enjoy your food all you wish. But I would appreciate if you didn’t drink too much.“

Jon rolled his eyes. „I’m not Theon. I never drink more, than one. Ser Arthur would make me a head shorter if I dare to appear for training after a night of senseless drinking.“

Ned hummed. „I would think so. But if you bring back Lya in time _and_ neither of you is hopelessly drunk, I might let you go back to the festive and while the celebrations are going- for those few days- I will ask Arthur to cancel your training.“

The answering wolfish smile- so much like Lyanna’s- was all he needed, as Jon left.

Catelyn was huffing, but he was willing to ignore her -and her anger- for a moment longer to recall his happy times with Lyanna and send a quick prayer to the Old Gods for her soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Koleda is an actual Slavic festival, from the pagan times. The date of it is nowadays Christmas (Dec 24-25) or early January, according to Cyrillic calendar ( Jan 6-7). The Slavic speakers of Macedonia celebrate(d) it before Christmas.


	10. Daenerys I

**early 294 AC**

_She was in a beautiful castle, dragons made of stone surrounding her. Briefly, she remembered the books she’d read about her family’s ancestral seat, Dragonstone, but then, she realised that the air was too cold._

_And there was snow- soft and white, yet unmarked by boots and animals- beneath her feet. So she knew, she was still in the North. But why would the North have a Keep decorated with dragons? Regardless, it was a beautiful sight._

_She looked around and found herself alone... or so, she thought, until she noticed the massive white wolf with blood-red eyes. It was the size of a horse, its eyes speaking of intelligence well beyond a normal beast. She’d never seen one, but she liked reading the old stories of the North, so she knew she was facing a direwolf._

_The direwolves were companions to the Starks for hundreds of years, just as the dragons had been to her ancestors. Until both magnificent beasts disappeared. Yet, she was still seeing one right now. The direwolf walked closer and she took a step back in fear._

_Then, it spoke- but it spoke a language she could not understand. One, that had only been taught to the Starks, since the Conqueror had come. It was speaking the Old Tongue._

**_„Zima sa blíží a mrtví prichádzajú s ním.“_** (Winter is coming and the dead come with it.)

_Then, a sudden cold wind swept through the yard, picking up the snow, which then obscured her vision for a while. When it was finally gone, she felt colder, than ever before in her life and suddenly, the beautiful castle seemed menacing._

_There was a growl and she looked at the massive wolf in front of her._

_Its once magnificent white fur was falling off, the flesh of the animal seemed to be frozen in a state of decay. At some parts, she could even see the bones and one ear was missing, clotted with ice-like, black blood. However, the eyes were the most terrifying of all._

_The once lively red eyes, that promised danger and protection alike, were gone. Instead, cold, shining blue eyes were looking at her._

**_„Zima sa blíží, a tých, ktorí sú nepripravené budú prvými obeťami.“_** (Winter is coming and those, who are unprepared will be the first victims.) _the wolf snarled, pouncing. Her mouth opened in a silent scream..._

She bolted upright in her bed, mouth open in a silent scream, body covered in a sheen of cold sweat. Her lilac eyes roamed the room, but she found nothing out of the ordinary. She was in her room, not far from the family wing.

Jon and Arya occupied the rooms across from hers. She climbed out of bed and quickly changed into proper clothes and then washed her face. Pulling her boots on, she left her room and lightly knocked on Arya’s door. Arya had always been a light sleeper, unlike Jon who would most likely sleep through being drenched with a bucket of ice-cold (or scolding hot) water. She had to wait a few minutes, before the door opened and Arya poked her head out, mismatched eyes shiny with sleepiness and her hair like a bird’s nest.

„Dany? Is everything okay?“

Dany bit her lower lip before she gathered her courage. „Can I come in? I can’t sleep.“

„Oh.“ she said and opened the door wider. Dany squirreled in and sat on Arya’s bed.

Arya padded over too and they sat, backs against the headrest, the furs pulled over them. Dany glanced at the half-dornish apologetically. „Sorry for waking you up, ’rya“

Arya waved a hand. „Think nothing of it. You know I’m a light sleeper anyway.“ then their eyes met for a moment. „Nervous about the ceremony?“

„No... yes.“ Dany muttered. „Kind of, I am. I’m afraid I might forget what to say... but that’s not what woke me up.“

Arya raised an eyebrow and looked at her seriously. Whenever the Snow gave her that look, she always felt like a babe. Arya was so collected and serious when need be, that sometimes, she wondered, if she and Jon were years older, rather than a few moons’ older.

Of course, there were times, when Jon looked exactly like that and treated both her and Arya, as his ’little sisters’, who were made of the finest glass, ready to break at a wrong touch.

„Do tell, Dany.“ Arya said quietly.

Dany took a deep breath, before launching into the elaborate description of her dream. Once she was finished, Arya looked thoughtful. „I see. Can... you by chance, recall anything from that sentence in the Old Tongue?“

Dany furrowed her brow. „Not much. You know that the language escapes me.“

„Just try... please.“ Arya’s voice sounded strangely off-key as if she was trying to hide her desperation.

Dany closed her eyes and tried to recall every detail of the dream. „Zi.. _zime_ and _obecami_...“ she muttered, though she was sure her pronunciation had been horrible.

Arya’s brows furrowed before her eyes flashed. You mean **’zima’** and ’**obeťami’**?“

Dany nodded furiously. „_Yes_. What does that mean?“

„It translates to ’winter’ and ’victims’ respectively.“ she muttered. „Doesn’t sound too... nice.“

„No, it doesn’t.“ Dany agreed with a shiver, recalling the cold blue eyes before the wolf pounced. „What do you think it means?“

„I don’t know, but it feels like the gods are warning us.“ she muttered. „And we should never ignore the warnings of gods...“

* * *

Arya’s worried, ominous tone remained with her for the rest of the day, as they traveled from Winterfell to Sea Dragon Point. Lord Stark had said, that she and Jon would marry in the Godswood of their new castle the next week, to give time for the guests to arrive.

She wondered what sorts of guests would those be. Would they only be of the North or others would come as well?

As they rode quietly with the small retinue, she observed the land from atop her Silver- a gift from Lord Benjen. He’d given it to her last year on her name day. Jon’s black destrier (a gift from Lord Stark to Jon, as a congratulation gift for getting married) rode next to her. Arya was on Jon’s other side on a dark brown mare.

„Is everything alright, Dany?“ Jon asked, whispering quietly. Robb and Theon were in good mood behind them and Dany guessed Jon didn’t want to draw their attention. They’d been teasing him about getting married too much, anyway.

Ser Arthur, as usual, even atop a horse, was looming behind them, like a shadow, though this time, his bastard friends- who’d been teaching the three of them, since they could lift anything, that could be called a weapon,- Sers Osric and Geris were also here. Dany could tell they were scanning the surroundings, ready to protect them. (For a brief moment, she wondered, if this was what it felt like, to have Kingsguard behind her back.)

She glanced at him and gave a tiny smile. „Yes. Well... no.“ He raised an eyebrow in silent question and Dany cursed her babbling mouth. She glanced behind them, at the Heir of Winterfell and the squid. She had nothing against Robb, really, but Theon was... another story.

„Dany?“ Jon called again.

Dany looked back and smiled. „I’ll tell you later, with less prying ears about.“ she whispered, nodding her head towards Theon.

„Ah,“ he said, understanding flashing in his dark violet eyes. „Alright. Later, then.“

For the rest of the journey, he stayed silent, but the occasional reassuring looks and smiles he sent her, made her heart flutter and the corner of her mouth curved upwards. Once she’d been told, that King Robert wanted to shame her with making her marry Jon. But these days, she didn’t feel it was a punishment. Jon was a wonderful person and she liked Arya as well (well, _love_ maybe would be a more accurate word).

The King had wanted to shame her, Ser Arthur had said- but she felt no shame. Robert Baratheon had taken, what was her family’s for centuries and sent her to Winterfell to fall forgotten.

But, all the King had done, was give her a perfect, comfortable life. People whispered and Lady Stark didn’t like her, but Lords Eddard and Benjen were always nice and Ser Arthur had occasionally told her stories of her brother and mother.

She was an exiled Princess, a prisoner within the lands, that had been ruled by her House. Yet, she was also a friend, a sister, a lover and a Lady for many. Robert Baratheon had taken her family before she could know them.

But when he allowed her to come North and be raised by wolves, he’d also- unwillingly, she supposed- had given her another family. She would have liked to meet other Targaryens- her mother or brothers, perhaps- but she would never in a thousand years change her relationship with Arya and Jon, or even Lord Stark.

One day, she would have her revenge, for the family he’d taken; but before he would fall dead by her hand, she’d make sure to smile into his face and thank him for giving her the chance to live with the Starks.

For the Starks were as much her family, as were the Targaryens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think, who should attend the Targ wedding? Essosi? Westerosi nobles (which families)? Or maybe both?
> 
> And who should be the staff of Sea Dragon Point?


	11. Arya (Visenya) II & Jon (Jaehaerys) II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the bedding and Jon receives gifts from a mystery benefactor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still no idea about who should be the household of Sea Dragon Ponit. It's a kind of crisis! Please, help

**Arya (Visenya) II**

The night of Jon and Dany’s wedding was clear and crisp, especially so, since they were exposed to the wind, atop the hill. Those few Essosi, who’d accepted the invitation were cursing the cold, not that it mattered to her. Most of the Lords were of the North, who’d come. However, the first ones who stood out were Lord and Lady Lannister and their twins.

She also noticed the King’s brothers, Lords Stannis and Renly and of course, Lord Jaime’s twin, Queen Cersei. (Who looked like she wanted to be anywhere else, but here.) The look on the King’s face made her sick- his face was unmoving, but his deep blue eyes were shimmering with barely contained gloating laughter.

How could her father be friends with such a man?

Jon was waiting by the biggest Heart Tree with their father, the colours of their new House highlighting his pale hair and making it look like the palest of silver. (Unlike in Winterfell, this Godswood, much to her shook had a groove of six wirewoods, all with differently carved faces, arranged in a loose circle.) The way till the tree was lit with several lanterns. Arya turned to watch, as Dany arrived, led by Robb.

She looked stunningly beautiful in her silver-white gown, with the black-red cloak of Houe Targaryen resting on her shoulders.

Arya’s heart ached, as she watched Dany and Jon step in front of the tree and Father. She wanted to be there, with them. She belonged there. The three of them were one. (Times like this, she truly wished to be a Targaryen. Then, she could marry both of them and they would be happy. She wished they had dragons too because if they had dragons, no one would dare to object about the polygamy.)

Alas, that was wishful thinking. The only Targaryen was Dany now and dragons had been gone from the world, since the Dance of Dragons.

As they finally reached the Heart tree, Arya blinked to focus.

„Who comes before the Old Gods this night?“ her father boomed.

„Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen.“ Robb’s smooth voice answered. „A woman grown, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?“

„Jon of House Greystark, Lord of Sea Dragon Point, who seeks to claim her.“ her brother answered, voice like silk. „Who gives her?“

„Robb of House Stark, Heir of Winterfell, who is her step-brother.“

„Does anyone have objections to this match? Step forward and voice it now or remain silent forever.“

Arya swallowed, every fiber of her being stiff. _’Yes. Yes, I have objections! You can’t marry them and not me! You can’t leave me out of this! The three of us had always been together in everything! I belong there, with them!’_ she wanted to scream.

Yet, her lips remained sealed and no sound left her throat. (She would just humiliate them all and draw unwanted attention. She would have to live with this, without her being part of it.)

„Lady Daenerys, do you take this man?“ her father asked.

Jon and Dany shared a loving look and Arya’s heart squeezed. _She wanted to be there._ „I take this man.“

Jon unclasped her cloak and let it fall into the snow. Then, he unclasped his own and swiftly covered Dany in it. They joined hands and knelt in front of the tree, heads bowed in prayer. Arya prayed too, for their happiness and health, yet a part of her filled with jealousy.

„Now rise.“ their father said. „And stand in front of all those, who bore witness, that from this day onward, you are husband and wife, Jon and Daenerys of House... Greystark.“

Arya raised an eyebrow. Had her father really hesitated before saying Greystark or was it just her imagination?

_’Doesn’t matter. They are married and I can’t be there with them...’_

* * *

The feast was a burl to her- but at the very least, she could sit next to Dany, as their father sat next to Jon. The food was plenty and delicious, but Robert Baratheon’s boisterous nature and the way he tried fucking the serving girls _right then and there,_ made her want to throttle him.

Arya didn’t like Queen Cersei, she was a haughty, bitter woman, that much she could tell, even from such a short meeting. Her very presence was repulsing to her, in a way. Her children were even more of a nightmare.

Stannis Baratheon looked stoic and sour even as if he’d bitten a lemon when he was born and the taste had not left his mouth since.

House Tyrell sent a representative in Lord Wyllas- a surprise, considering his bad leg- and Ser Garlan. She hadn’t so much as greeted Garlan, but she’d exchanged a few words with Wyllas. Polite and intelligent, that much she could tell. (And unlike others, who mocked her with the title, Wyllas called her ’Lady Arya’ genuinely.)

From the Westerlands came Jaime, his wife, and the Imp, Tyrion. He was cynical at best, but shrewd. There was something in the half-man, that intrigued her and she could see, that Jon and Dany thought the same, despite their initial mistrust for the Lions of the Rock.

Lord Jon Arryn was polite, but if Arya wanted to be honest, she despised Lady Lysa Arryn even more, than Lady Stark. Who knew, there could be a woman worse, than her? (But then again, they were sisters, so it wasn’t much of a surprise.)

However, what she didn’t expect at all, was to see Dornish. But there they were and if Arya hadn’t known any better, she would have said, that Prince Oberyn Martell had brought half of Sunspire. With the Prince came his paramour, Lady Ellaria and all their daughters, the Sand Snakes, also accompanied by Lord Aden Dayne.

Truth be told, the Dornish were the only bunch, whose presence she did not merely tolerate, but _enjoy_. She bonded swiftly with the Sand Snakes, considering, that the Dorne had warrior women. Until she actually took the time to speak with them, she didn’t realise just how many things the two Kingdoms had in common.

Dorne and the North alike trained their women in arms. The Dornish had their own lore and religion, and the Seven hadn’t completely overruled the ways of Queen Nymeria and the Rhoynar. The North was more accepting of bastards too, generally. Well... it wasn’t the case with Lady Stark, but first and foremost, she would always be a southron.

Time flew by, with the stories shared and plenty of food and drink consumed. A merry feast indeed, befitting her siblings (for Dany could only be her sister). Even many gifts came their way. Dany and Jon took them, accepting them with courteous words and smiles.

Everything was perfect until the King’s drunk shout rose above the music- and she feared the Keep might collapse on them.

„Time for bedding!“ the moment those words left Robert Baratheon’s mind, her stomach lurched. She would not be there.

The guests rose, like a mighty wave of the sea and separated Dany and Jon, carrying them and slowly starting to undo their clothes. She could barely see them, in the mass of bodies. Yet, Dany managed to catch her gaze, despite the chaos.

_Come. Wait for them to leave and join_\- her eyes seemed to say. She'd spent years with Dany and Jon, she could read them, like open books and in turn, they could do the same with her. Her eyes glimmered and she grinned wolfishly.

She would do, just as her good-sister bid her. She would sneak into the chambers and she would wait. No one would notice her missing, in the commotion.

_’Just be quiet and stay unseen.’_ she told herself. The Keep was still new to her, later she’d have to find the time to explore it, to learn its nooks and cracks, as they knew Winterfell’s. Luckily, on her own, she was faster, than the crowd, so she managed to slip into the room and hide.

Minutes after she hid away, the doors were barged open and the crowd all but dropped Dany and Jon of the bed, half-naked, before leaving. She closed her eyes and counted till ten, waiting for even the last noises of strangers gone. Jon and Dany were already kissing, Dany tearing at Jon’s breeches rather desperately.

She flashed an amused smirk at them, as she revealed her presence. It _was_ amusing to watch them fumble, but it was also a good way to cover up the jealousy she was feeling. „Would you like to play alone or can I join?“ she asked.

They stilled, their glimmering eyes turning to her. Dany smirked and yanked her close, already undoing the lacing of the annoying dress. She was glad Dany was doing it because Jon might just have torn it apart... She was half out of the dress, when Jon kissed her, stealing her breath away.

Once all three of them were free of their clothes, they stumbled towards the massive bed- luckily, big enough to have space for all three of them- and fell on it.

Jon grinned. „Now look how lucky I am.“ he whispered huskily. „The two most beautiful women in my marriage bed.“

Dany’s bold words were surprising and welcome all the same. „Well dear _husband_, how about you show us, how much you _appreciate_ us?“

* * *

The next morning Arya woke too early, morning sunlight breaking through the curtains. She blinked, trying to clear the haze of sleep and gently moved her head to look around.

All three of them were naked, tangled more, than ever before. She couldn’t tell which limb was hers or her siblings’. Jon was laying on his back, a tiny trail of drool going from his mouth to pool on the pillow. _Yuck_.

Jon’s arms were around both of them and she and Dany served as human covers, laying on the top of him- the furs were lost somewhere, either on the ground or twisted around their feet, but she didn’t care. One of Dany’s hands was tangled in Jon’s messy curls, which were such a beautiful silver, that they would have even looked well on a Targaryen.

She could still feel the activities of last night and it made her warm inside. They had all been virgins, of course, but they’d found ways to enjoy themselves so much, that she wished for more. Looking towards the window. It was shut, but the single streak of pale light told her it was early enough.

She looked at the two most beautiful creatures, with a smile on her face. _’What if...?’_

Her arms were, thankfully free and she could move them without waking her two companions. Slowly, she reached downwards and started stroking Jon gently, just a little. Her other hand went to seek Dany and stroke her down there, too.

Both grunted and shifted, but didn’t wake. She smiled, even more, continuing her work, slowly increasing the peace she worked. Then, her brother gasped and his eyes flew open alert for a second before the haze of pleasure appeared again. Her hands worked even faster and Dany gasped yet again.

Jon grunted beneath her. „_Arya_...“

„Shhh, sweet brother.“ she smiled. „We have to be quiet, but we can have some fun before breakfast.“

His hips bucked up, waking Dany. „What...“ Arya chose that moment, to move her fingers on Dany faster and the other girl tensed up. „_Gods_. Don’t stop.“

„So... another round?“ she asked again, her smile turning into a smirk.

Neither of them cared about being late for breakfast.

* * *

**Jon (Jaehaerys) II**

Breakfast was awkward, considering that their family was sitting the closest (and while the others tried to coax him into conversing, he refused, because his mind was still flashing back to last night). It was even worse since they had been late and Jon didn’t miss the looks Theon and Robb had sent his way.

But, he survived and even managed to send all the visitors on their way. He sighed in relief- now, that the royal retinue was gone.

By midday, all the visitors were on their way and he was left with his new wife and the Starks. He sighed and dragged his feet towards the Lord’s solar- _his solar_-, to deal with the offers he’d (surprisingly) gotten from Dorne and the Sea Lords. (But then again, both factions had been loyal Targaryen supporters and his wife was the last one of them.)

Dany and Arya were dealing with the aftermath of the feast, so he would most likely be alone for a few hours. With another sigh, he entered the solar- it looked perfectly like in his dream, the dream with the dragons, that kept returning. Did that mean something, perhaps?

What caught his attention was the massive chest of pale wood in the middle of the room, the Targaryen dragon seemingly burned into it. Behind the box stood a beautiful woman. She wore a long, loose-sleeved red dress and a tight copper necklace with a big red gem in the middle. She was young and fair-skinned with dark red hair and pale, silver-blue eyes.

The moment their gazes met, she started singing.

_“Tonight alone you're riding_   
_Onto the other side_   
_Your might untold and waiting_   
_Boy you'll be the final light_   
_Your mother fought the demons_   
_Your father saw the light_   
_And now we pray the unborn_   
_You and I can stay alive_   
  
_Son of a wolf_   
_When the fight is calling_   
_Son of a wolf_   
_And the night has come_   
_Son of a wolf_   
_Can you hear the calling_   
_Hallelujah”_

Her voice was beautiful, but the song... had a power, that made him shiver. He wanted to shout or to leave, but his body would not obey his commands. So he stood and listened.

_Forever to the brave men_   
_When times were hard and wild_   
_You are the new messiah_   
_Born a wolf of humankind_   
  
_Son of a wolf_   
_When the fight is calling_   
_Son of a wolf_   
_And the night has come_   
_Son of a wolf_   
_Can you hear the calling_   
_Hallelujah_   
_Son of a wolf_   
_Can you see him dying_   
_Son of a wolf_   
_When the night is dark_   
_Son of a wolf_   
_Can you hear them calling_   
_Hallelujah_   
  
_Agnus dei in tempestis_   
_Ignarus et animus_   
_Sanctus iesu in tormentis_   
_Romulus in misera_   
_Agnus dei in tempestis_   
_Ignarus et animus_   
_Sanctus iesu in tormentis_   
_Romulus in misera”_   
  


He stiffened hand twitching for his sword- only to realise he didn’t carry it. Who would have thought he’d need it within his own home? „Who are you, My Lady and how had you found your way here?“ he demanded, trying to shake the enchanting song away.

The woman smiled slightly, before bowing low. „Forgive me, My Lord, for coming without notice.“ he twitched at being called a lord, but then he remembered, that from now on, he _was_ one. „My name is Kinvara and I am a High Priestess of R’hollor, the Lord of Light, from Volantis.“

He wasn’t familiar with that faith, but he’d heard about it in passing- or was it mentioned in a book? He couldn’t recall. The point was, that he’d heard the name before, but he also knew, that the R_ed God_, as it was called, was one worshipped in Essos. It had no power here.

„You are far from your home, Priestess.“ he said frostily. „And most Essosi merchants and Lords had already left.“

She nodded. „I am well aware of that, Lord Greystark.“ she said, her voice low and melodious, almost as if she was still singing. „But I’ve been asked to bring this to you.“ she said, gesturing at the chest.

Jon looked at it once more, before shaking his head. „It has the Targaryen sigil, My Lady. You have the wrong of it.“

She raised an elegant eyebrow. „Do I, My Lord? Your Lady wife is a daughter of Valyria. She has your name now, but you share blood and sigil. This is as much for you, as it is for the women closest to you.“ He flinched at that. How could this stranger know about what he shared with Dany and Arya? „I merely bring this to you and yours. I’m not here to judge, nor will I tell your heart’s secrets to anyone.“

Jon’s eyes narrowed. „What is the proof of your word?“

The woman shook her head. „I have none. But know. I wish no harm to you and yours.“ she gestured at the box again and took a few steps back.

Keeping his eyes on the woman, he approached the chest and opened it tentatively. The underside of the lid was decorated with a white lion, the outlines ran with gold. He blinked, who could it be? He looked at the woman- Kinvara- and she shook her head with a smile.

„I cannot tell you his name. However, he told me, that you have seen him before and know his name. He said, that the craving inside shall be your clue to his identity.“ He glanced at it again.

Looking into the box, he found a small rolled parchment lying on the rich silks covering whatever was inside. He grabbed the paper and unfurled it. Unfamiliar- expected, really- and elegant writing greeted him. It was a mere sentence- yet, it left him confused, bewildered and shooked, beyond belief.

** _My oath of fealty to You and Yours, My Lord_ **

He placed the parchment down and peeled the rich silks away. He expected a great many things, but not _this_.

Inside were three big stones, colorful and shining, like gems. One was black-blue, the second was red-silver and the third was grey-bronze. He touched the black one and he felt soft heat from it, like a ghost of a loving touch from his sister or Dany. But, as he trailed the black one further, he realised all of them were covered in _scales_. He needed a moment, to realise, what they actually were.

_For these were not stones at all._

Wide-eyed, he looked back at the woman. „Are these...?!“

She nodded. „Dragon eggs. Among the last ones, for all I know. Maybe, truly the last ones. Some men found it in my homeland, Asshai’i and a merchant Magister bought it from them. Then, your benefactor bought it from the Magister and asked me, after the feast, to deliver it to you.“

_Who in the Seven Hells wanted him and Dany to have dragon eggs?_ Surely, these were worth a fortune... so whomever it was, he had to be rich beyond belief.

His eyes flickered back to the writing, as if he could decipher, who’s hand had marked the paper. Of course, he had no luck.

He placed the parchment away and stood up, looking into the woman’s eyes. He swore that for a moment, in the different light, her eyes seemed red, like embers of a fire. „I thank you, My Lady. Shall you meet this nameless benefactor of my House, tell him I will not forget his gift and shall he one day show himself to me, I will pay him back in kind.“

The woman bowed her head and took a few steps back, towards the shadows. „I shall tell him so.“

„Now, if you excuse me, Lady Kinvara, I have yet to attend to my duties.“ the redhead’s eyes flickered to the stack of papers and she smiled.

„Then, I shall leave you to them, My Lord.“ she bowed. „Though I would wish to give you one last piece of advice, regarding your exotic gift.“ she said, gaze flickering to the chest.

Jon raised an eyebrow. „Those eggs are stones, My Lady. Beautiful and precious, but they shall never hatch.“

The woman smiled. „There is power in your and yours blood, My Lord. Do not fear the fire, for you, three shall be the ones to wake the dragons from stone. You are one soul in three bodies. For when the night is dark and full of terrors, the dragon must have three heads, to bring forth the Dawn. So states the Prophecy.“

Jon opened his mouth to retort immediately. „I do not believe...“

But there was a flash, as the fire in the hearth blazed bright and hot, casting long shadows over the room and increasing the heat as well, for a moment. Then, when everything was back to normal, Kinvara was gone.

He was alone, looking at the three dragon eggs, Kinvara’s haunting voice and her song, still ringing in his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is SON OF A WOLF by the band Powerwolf. I made a slight tweak to it, to fit the story better. I do not own the song. Check out the song and the original lyrics. :3


	12. Interlude: The Imp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Ashara plot and Tyrion suspects something...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit short, but I'm happy with it, sincs I had never written Tyrion before.  
Tell me what you think :3

Jaime had always been the closest to him in their family, given that their father and Cersei blamed him for the death of one beloved Joanna Lannister. The other close person was Uncle Gerion, their bond growing truly strong, after Jaime had been appointed, as a knight of the Kingsguard.

Since he was back, their bond had grown even stronger. In fact, Tyrion had come to like his new sister-by-law. She was someone most of the Westerlands loved and respected, despite the early days of mistrust, stemming from her Dornish roots.

But the reason Tyrion loved her, was because Ashara had removed Cersei’s claws from Jaime. It was something he would forever be grateful for. (And he _absolutely adored_ the children. Vorian, Joanna and little Tyrion- he’d been shooked into silence, mouth gaping, when Ashara had stated the name of his youngest nephew.)

So, his point was, that he loved and respected Jaime and Ashara both. Therefore, he would do nothing, that would bring them harm, nor would he pry in their private business. Still, on this fine sunny morning, Tyrion found himself rooted in front of the door leading into Jaime’s solar, as he listened to the faint voices coming from inside.

„Has it been delivered, Lady Kinvara?“ even trough the door, Tyrion could clearly recognize his brother’s voice.

„Indeed, My Lord Lannister.“ the female voice answered. Tyrion could briefly recall the Red Priestess, who’d attended the Greystark wedding. What business did Jaime have with a woman like her? And what had she delivered for him?

„Very good. Does he know?“ asked Ashara. She was inside?

_’So whatever’s going on here, she’s in on it as well...’_ he thought.

„No.“ the melodious Essosi drawl answered. „Tough the clue you left him inside the box had spurred his interest immediately. And for a while, he eyed your note, as if it had a name written on it.“

„I’m not all that surprised...“ Jaime said. Tyrion looked around. Luckily, the corridor was empty, so he carefully inched closer, to hear them all better.

„And our good Lord Greystark had also mentioned, that he will not forget the gift and will pay you back in kind. That is, when he comes to know, who was behind his gift.“

Never had Tyrion felt this overwhelming urge to know what was going on. At this moment, he would have been ready to pay all the gold of Casterly to any and all god in existence, if only they told him, what was going through his beloved brother's head.

„I have no doubt.“ Jaime said. „The lad is, after all, a lot like his father, from what I’ve seen.“

The Priestess’ soft laughter could be heard, even trough the sturdy doors. „He is much more, than his father ever was, Lord Lannister. Now, I bid you a good day. I have things, that must be done, for when the time comes.“

„Thank you for your service, My Lady.“

„Think nothing of it. There will be a day when you will be a White Lion again, Lord Lannister. Not by oath, but by the word of gods. This was the first step towards it. For now, our paths diverge, but when night falls, we shall see each other again.“

Hearing that the Priestess intended to leave, Tyrion hurriedly waddled away, the reason he’d come seeking Jaime, long forgotten. He was far enough to be safe, when he glanced back, expecting the door to open and reveal the Priestess. Yet, it never did.

_’Strange.’_ he thought.

Focusing ahead, he changed directions towards his chambers. He needed a drink because his head was pounding.

Jaime and Ashara were up to something, that somehow involved both a Red Priestess and Stark’s legitimized bastard... Should he start worrying?

He shook his head, as he opened the door to his chambers. _’I’m just overreacting. Ashara had freed Jaime from Cersei... but Jaime would not dare, nor would he have a reason to move against Cersei. Or father.’_

He grabbed the wine pitcher and poured himself a cup of fine Dornish. He was sure if he drunk and slept enough, he could just conveniently ignore what he’d heard. Jaime, after all, would never dare doing anything against Cersei. (Not that he would have minded if something _had_ happened to her.)


	13. Daenerys II & Eddard IV

**Daenerys II**

** _Several months later:_ **

After the Starks had gone back to Winterfell, leaving only the three of them, Jon had shown them the most wondrous thing ever. He showed them the three dragon eggs, delivered by the mysterious Red Priestess. After Jon told them of the song- which he could barely recall, even then- and how the woman told him, that she was just delivering someone else’s gift...

It still confused her. Why would someone send them such a lavish gift, when they were nothing but bastards and a disgraced Princess with no crown? Not that it mattered- though, they made sure to hide the eggs from everyone.

Well, not bastards anymore...

All three of them had settled well into the role of ruling Sea Dragon Point, so she believed. First, she wondered, who would work in the castle, but that was soon solved. A few had joined and stayed from Winterfell. Others were of the Westerlands and Dorne-courtesy of Lord Jaime and Lady Ashara’s she’d been told. Others were just Northern smallfolk, who wished to earn a living and came.

What truly shocked her was how mismatched their ’court’ was, as Robb often joked.

Aurane Waters and Ser Davos and his sons had been in the service of Lord Stannis, until a moon after her and Jon’s wedding, they joined. Now they were responsible for the ships docking nearby. Ser Jorah, their master-at-arms, the disgraced Lord of Bear Island. (Who would have been executed even, if not for Jon pleading for mercy on the knight’s behalf. After Lord Stark spared him and had Jorah renounce his Heir status, Jorah had almost immediately, without hesitation, sworn fealty to Jon.)

Ser Arthur, of course, who still constantly shadowed Jon (as did Sers Osric and Geris with her and Arya). Sometimes, she really did feel like they had their own Kingsguard, even though neither were as such, as Ser Arthur had been stripped of his cloak after the Rebellion.

And then there were the two bastards... Ramsay and Larence Snow. Ramsay still gave her creeps, but somehow Jon had managed to gain his loyalty. Larence had been sent here as a missive of Lord Hornwood only to decide he wished to stay. After a lengthy correspondence, his father allowed the young boy to remain, though she wondered what did the Lord gain by that. Did he hope to be in the good graces of Lord Eddard?

Their smith, Gendry had been the biggest surprise. The lad had just simply heard of a ’new northern House’, so he decided to leave his master in King’s Landing and see more of Westeros. His travels had brought him here and after Jon found out he was a smith, he persuaded Gendry to stay. Ever since, he’s struck up a great friendship with Arya, who seemed to be happier for it.

She loved her life here, really, but who knew being a Lady of a Keep would take so much time?

She had to make sure the keep ran day-to-day and had to check the numbers as well. Arya hated doing that, so most of the time, Arya instead checked the smallfolk and relayed messages to the people around the small town, which was gradually growing more populous.

Jon kept the ships and trade in check, while also keeping Lord Stark updated on the many happenings. Despite being busy, he would take over for her for a day and he would tell her to walk among the smallfolk, to listen to them. She did it with a smile on her face- the people here were much more accepting and not whispering behind her back. (She had her suspicions, that it had been Lady Stark’s work).

Jon though had immediately limited her work, when he heard from the Maester- who’d arrived from the Citadel a mere moon ago-, that she was with child. The ide was foreign to her, but not unexpected, given how busy they’d been on the wedding night.

So, between her duties as Lady and making sure to stay healthy for the baby, she surely had busy days...

* * *

**Eddard IV**

When he read Jon’s letter, he felt relieved and happy. It seemed, even in these few short moons, the people of Sea Dragon Point were prospering. His nephew had even managed to secure another trade agreement with Essos, bringing more wealth to the North.

From what he heard of his guards and other bannermen- chiefly Benjen and Lady Mormont- the smallfolk were praising House Greystark. They were obviously good at taking care of the people- all three of them, despite their newly ’gained’ noble status helped the people. Literally, as Jon, while busy, still found enough time to help a young widow. (Whose son, if he understood the letter correctly, was now working in the stables, to ’earn’ the money Jon had given her.)

Ned smiled, pride swelling in his chest. _’Born to be King indeed.’_ He was sure Lyanna and Rhaegar would have been as proud, like him.

But this had brought him to his current dilemma. Alliances. Alliances, that Jon and his family would need, once the time was right.

Despite what Catelyn said, he could not have Robb marry another southron Lady. Not to mention, that his son seemed to have been smitten with Alys Karstark...

_’Maybe Lord Karstark would agree? He has three sons, so the name would continue...’ _That seemed to be a good idea. However, finding matches for Sansa and Lynara would be harder, especially considering his younger daughter’s wolf’s blood...

Sansa... maybe she could marry the Tyrell Heir. Highgarden was the heart of chivalry and no matter how he disapproved of Catelyn’s southron ways, it would help Sansa in Highggarden. _’Not to mention, they were- and still are- staunch Targaryen supporters. Sansa is the cousin to the future King and Queen...’_

Ned stopped there, frowning a little. Starks had married cousin-to-cousin for centuries, but the Targaryens’ brother-sister marriages were still something he didn’t approve of. But he knew the twins well enough- the moment they were told, Jon might just kiss Arya right then and there. Or would it be Arya kissing Jon? She definitely wasn’t the shy, hapless Lady, like Sansa.

He sighed.

Catelyn will not be happy, but this will have to be done.

Jon Arryn had written him over the years and each letter the Lord of the Vale sent made Ned more and more worried for the Realm. Robert might just run them into the ground... if they weren’t already drowned in the debt.

And he’d have to speak with Benjen as well. His brother would think him crazy, but this was what they had agreed to when they hid Jon and Arya. And, he supposed, he truly sealed his side- the Targaryen side-, when he orchestrated the betrothal of Daenerys and Jon.

With another sigh, he reached for paper and quill. The letter will not write itself...

** _Dear Lady Olenna..._ **


End file.
